


The Vacant Ether

by AnchoredTether



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grim Reapers, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Horror, I fix all the plot holes of s8, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Sentient Voltron Lions, Stories In The Dark Bang, Suicide Attempt, allurance was more complex than it looked, brief mentions of shurtis since it's apparently canon, but it has a happy ending so it's okay, cosmic reaper, endgame plance, with lots of angst and dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnchoredTether/pseuds/AnchoredTether
Summary: Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides. The binds of this balanced cord may stretch or tangle, but never sever. There lives an entity who ensures such breaks never occur and under the rare circumstances that they do…To warrant the due price be paid.Life cannot be given freely. Allura has given it twice; first when Shiro's soul was transferred back into a living body and second when Lance died at the Omega Shield. Shiro and Lance are haunted by strange visions and an ever-present voice in their heads, condemning them to a heavy burden of survivor's guilt. The pain and suffering only worsen after Allura's sacrifice and Lance learns it is all part of the cosmic reaper's grand design of retribution.As the stakes get higher in a strategy of life and death, Lance is determined to avenge Allura and restore the balance on his own terms. Sacrificing himself to save his friends is no longer an option. Lance will have to fight with everything he has left if he wants his loved ones to survive the wrath of the reaper's domain.
Relationships: (past) Lance/Allura, Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 34
Kudos: 36





	1. Sealed Move

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the [Stories in the Dark](https://storiesinthedarkbang.tumblr.com/) bang! Heavy inspiration came from Cosu's [artwork](https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/post/181113427040/after-watching-the-end-of-s8-and-seeing-shiro-and) of a cosmic reaper AU (permission was asked to be used). This was an exciting project for me that involved a lot of planning (for those of you who know me can attest I'm more of a pantser) and delving into darker subjects that I usually only lightly touch on. 
> 
> I want to thank my incredibly talented artist [Skriy](https://skriytoons.tumblr.com/) for producing this [beautiful artwork](https://skriytoons.tumblr.com/post/189242249467/this-is-my-illustration-for-the) for my story!! Please reblog and comment because it is gorgeous and deserves all the love. Skriy put a lot of work into this and they were such a pleasure to work with <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **S E A L E D \\\ M O V E ::** _suspension of a chess game with the intention to finish it later._

_ The last thing I remember is blinding white. _

_ And something else. _

_ I can't quite describe it in words. _

_ It felt like something had grabbed me… but not like someone taking a hold of my arm or yanking on my shirt, it was as if something wrapped around my entire body - even through my skin and around my insides - like a rope, passing around and through and binding me. It was so momentary and I'm not even sure if I felt it or only imagined it. _

_ And then there was darkness. There is a feeling of being sucked downwards into some kind of void, as if some giant creature is wanting to swallow me whole. The vacuum intensifies, but this time I am being sucked in the opposite direction, two forces battling to consume me. I feel myself pulled upwards, as if I am rising to the surface of the ocean and breathing for the first time in hours. _

_ I am back in Red. _

_ And then I see Allura. _

"You saved me..."  _ I realize. It only made sense. I remembered pushing Blue out of the way of giant shock waves and it must have… it must have… _

"I owed you one,"  _ she answers simply. _

_ I do not know what to say as I try to wrap my mind around everything that happened. It feels like days have passed but it also flashed so instantly that I can barely recall it. My body is weak and the heaviness set into my bones only makes the reality so much clearer. I am uncertain about a lot of what happened, but one fact is undeniable as I feel the whispers of an omen take root deep inside my heart. _

_ I died. _

_ And somehow Allura brought me back to life. _

* * *

The first time Lance sees it, he believes it is only a nightmare induced from all the stress. 

Learning about the colony and Lotor, Shiro attacking the team, Keith going after him, and the team trying to restore the Castle gives Lance no time to ponder the meaning of his strange, now recurring nightmares. It isn't until he tries comforting Allura that he notices something more is going on.

"Allura are you okay?" He stands up and walks closer to her side. "You seem a little distracted."

"I'm just so angry with myself for allowing this to happen," Allura says bitterly. "I played right into Lotor's hands, and I fear my actions have placed us all in this dire situation."

A strange pain starts to blossom in his chest, but it doesn't seem like nervousness. "You didn't put us in this situation. It was Shiro who went rogue and released the virus on the Castle."

"No, this is my fault," she insists. "I trusted Lotor. I helped him build and empower his ships, granting him unlimited access to the quintessence field. I was fooled by him, and it put the entire universe in jeopardy." Allura looks away but he can tell she is on the verge of tears. "How can the coalition ever be expected to trust me…" Her eyes close in defeat. "…when I'm not sure I can trust myself?"

"Allura, it wasn't just you who trusted Lotor, we all did. I had more reason than anyone not to trust him, but he did everything right. He didn't just fool you." When she looks at him the same pain spreads through his chest but he tries to ignore it as he pushes on. "He fooled us all."

Suddenly Allura embraces him and he is slow to wrap his arms around her in kind. The pain licks at his ribs but he has to ignore it for her sake. The last thing she needs at this time is another thing to worry about. "Let me tell you, as someone who's made a million mistakes…all you can do is get up and try to make it right. You can't doubt yourself now. We need you….” He pauses heavily. “The universe needs you."

She sighs softly against his shoulder and he can hear the tears that line her lashes by the thickness of her voice. "Thank you, Lance…"

He is about to say "you're welcome" when an alert chirps, pulling them apart to see Keith hailing the Castle. Lance has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes the pain in his chest subsides as soon as he and Allura pull away from each other.

But he doesn't have time to think about it, not now.

* * *

The entity that plagues Lance's nightmares first speaks to him in the quintessence field. 

"We took a major shot but I feel fine!" Pidge reports.

"All this quintessence is keeping us at full power," Hunk says in awe.

"It's more than that," Keith starts. "Can you hear your Lion talking to you? Voltron is capable of more than we ever imagined. Attack!"

They fight with everything they’ve got, but despite his efforts, Lance can’t hear his Lion. With the surge of quintessential energy burning in his fingertips as his hands more tightly grip the controls, Red is silent and his mind feels dark. He hopes he can reach out to his Lion with the help of the energy that engulfs him in the cockpit, wondering if the lack of connection has something to do with his own shortcomings.

_ Red, where are you? Please… tell me something. _

As the fight against Lotor continues, Allura realizes they need to leave since the abundance of quintessence is corrupting everyone. Lance is the first to agree with her, feeling something is amiss when Red is still silent and the darkness in his mind begins to strengthen its grip. His veins run ice cold and the stark contrast to the heat of the quintessence is making him dizzy. He makes one more attempt to connect with his Lion, pleading for even the smallest sign.

_ Come on Red…give me something! I'll happily take disapproval at this point. I know I'm not fit to be the red paladin but I want to know what I have to do to be the paladin you need…please… _

When Allura transfers all the quintessence from Voltron to Lotor, Lance can feel the darkness inside him strengthen. A panic surges over him as he realizes the quintessence is _ protecting  _ him, and now it is gone and he is at the mercy of whatever is trying to consume him. His hands start to shake, jostling the controls slightly as he bites his lower lip and tries to get a grip on his overwhelming fear. Just when he thinks he is going to blackout a soft but firm voice enters his mind, its tone alarming as it gives him an ominous warning.

_ You will need to rely on instinct if you are to survive. _

Lance wants to ask what Red means by that but before he can try to speak, another voice fills his mind right before they leave the quintessence field. It is the exact opposite of the Lion's deep and soothing voice - grating and heinous, it causes a pain in his mind like a ringing in his ears. It fills his entire being with a thick dread that he can only describe as the most fear he has ever experienced as the voice vibrates within his very bones.

_ YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED. _

And as much as he hates to admit it, Lance cannot deny it.


	2. Absolute Pin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A B S O L U T E \\\ P I N ::** _a pin against the king is called absolute since the pinned piece cannot legally move out of the line of attack (as moving it would expose the king to check)._

Lance tells no one about the dark entity that haunts his mind, not even his family. There is too much happening and he fears no one will believe him anyways. He does not have any kind of proof of its existence, and for all he knows, maybe he  _ is _ imagining it. What if it is all in his head? What if the pain and hallucinating is all a mental phenomenon? After the events of the Feud, the last thing he wants is to be the dumb one  _ and  _ the crazy one.

When there is a knock on the door to his temporary room at the Garrison, he calls out, "Come in."

"Lance, can I have a word?" Shiro asks as he pokes his head through the ajar door.

"Sure." He finishes folding his Garrison uniform, sets it on the dresser, and sits down on the bed, folding his legs up under him and wrapping his hands around his ankles. When Shiro closes the door behind him his heart quickens. He looks up at Shiro, a man he always admired, and wonders what he could possibly have to say to him in such privacy. He is still trying to get accustomed to Shiro’s fully white hair and new prosthetic. "What...did you want to talk about?"

"I think I know why you couldn't summon Red during the fight against Sendak."

Lance feels his body tense. When he was protecting his sister in the line of fire he saw his life flash and the dark entity in his mind threatened to take back what was due. He couldn’t sense his Lion in the void. When Red finally came it had nothing to do with Lance and their connection - Red came of his own will to save him in time. "I just have a harder time with that kind of stuff, that's all,” he answers nervously, trying to dodge the topic. “I mean, I'm not nearly as smart as everyone el-"

"Lance, you're not an idiot. You're much smarter than you give yourself credit for." He gives him an encouraging smile. "You made it into the Garrison after all, and no idiot could pull that off."

He doesn't have time to glow at his praise as his mind reels with curiosity, unfolding his legs as he leans in closer to the older man. "Then why do you think I couldn't summon my Lion?"

"You've seen it, haven't you?"

His veins run cold. His hands start to tremble and he cannot keep his knee from bouncing. His voice is barely above a whisper. "You've seen it too?"

"Ever since Allura reunited my spirit into my cloned body."

It was  _ real.  _ He  _ isn't _ going insane. As much of a consolation that realization should have been, only a sickening fear takes grip around his lungs. "I…I saw it after the Omega Shield, when Allura brought me back…that electrical blast…it apparently killed me." There is a shared silence between the two of them as they try to comprehend what is happening. Eventually Lance speaks up, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "It seems to think we should have remained dead."

"Perhaps we should have…" Shiro takes a deep breath. "Does Allura know?"

"What? No…I haven't told anyone…" His brows lower as the wheels turn in his head. "Why?"

"I'm wondering if she's seen it too…she's the one who brought both of us back thanks to her alchemy. She might have some kind of connection to all of this."

He lets out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, how do you nicely phrase 'hey Allura, have you seen a monster of death? Because apparently you weren't supposed to save me or Shiro and it might… it might be coming for you next’…?!"

"We can't jump to conclusions-"

"Don't we kind of  _ have to?"  _ Lance protests. "We don't even know what  _ it is _ we're dealing with. We _ have _ to prepare for the worst case scenarios. If Allura dies -" His breath catches, his throat suddenly tight. "If Allura dies we don't have another 'Allura' to help bring her back!"

“Lance,” Shiro takes a step closer to place his flesh hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, one step at a time. We have to better understand what’s going on before we can make any rash decisions. We’ll talk to Allura and figure out-”

“No,” he interjects, his expression suddenly tense. “I…I don’t want anyone to know about this.”

Shiro creases his brows in worry. “Lance, you really should-”

“No Shiro, I  _ can’t… _ not yet. Besides, we have much much bigger problems to deal with like the Altean in that machine and Haggar and Lotor and you know,  _ defending the universe _ , that some freaky monster in my nightmares is the least of our concerns right now. Everyone will just think I’m crazy. Please…promise me you won’t tell anyone.” 

Shiro holds his gaze for a moment, his chest tightening before he finally sighs to release the tension and gives Lance’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Alright… I won’t tell anyone. But promise me that you  _ will _ tell someone else eventually. Or if things get worse in  _ any _ way.”

Lance knows Shiro means well, and deep down he knows he should not be keeping this monster in his mind a secret from his teammates, but he is scared. He does not want to be regarded as the insane one, discarded as a  _ broken _ seventh wheel. He feels he doesn’t fully deserve the spot as Red Paladin to begin with but he also doesn’t want to lose his position either. Keith could easily go back to piloting Red and Shiro to Black and what would he be then? Without his paladin armor he is just the dumb one. 

“Okay,” is all he says after a long pause. “I will…just…not now. There’s more important things than me at the moment.”

Shiro gives him a nod and steps back, respecting his wishes instead of pushing it further. “Know that you are important, Lance. To all of us. Please at least keep me updated on any changes with this…and I’ll do the same if I experience anything different.”

Lance nods, swallowing heavily. “I can do that.” The words are strained. He is uncertain if he can.

* * *

Lance has a hard time differentiating dreams from reality. They feel so real, everything so accurate and palatable that he is lured away into a sense of security until the dream turns sour and suffocates him with fear. It always starts with something believable - an ambush on the Garrison in the middle of the night, a mission out in space gone wrong, a distress signal they tried to track down. Sometimes it is even more mild, such as Lance spending time with his family or playing video games with Pidge or going to a conference involving all the Paladins. 

This time he is piloting Red and communicating with Hunk in the middle of some kind of sandstorm on an alien planet.

“Any sign of Keith? Where’d he go?” Lance asks.   


“I don’t know man, this storm is messing with my systems!” 

“Well let’s stay close. At least Pidge and Allura are together…I hope. We’ll have a better chance of regrouping if we stick together.”

The comms are silent for too long, especially considering that Hunk is always quick to answer. The screens in front of him are occasionally glitching but his headpiece seems to be working fine. “Hunk?” he asks cautiously. There is a soft sound on the other end but as Lance tries to listen more closely he cannot make anything out. “Hey, Hunk, you alright?”

Suddenly the Yellow Lion is falling off to the side, plummeting into the clouds and out of Lance’s sight. “Hunk!” He dives after the Yellow Lion but the massive ship is quickly approaching the ground and Lance does not know what he is supposed to do. Should he pop out of his Lion and try to grab Hunk out of the cockpit? It is too risky…the only other thing he can think of is trying to soften the landing with his own Lion.

He speeds Red down to get closer to the ground, below Yellow, and then lifted up, slamming into the other Lion. The ship shakes as he pushes the thrusters to full and fights against gravity to soften the impact of the approaching ground. 

“Come on, come on…” The beeping of the ship warning him about the increasingly dropping distance is wracking his nerves. At the last second he pushes his way out from underneath Yellow so he wouldn’t get crushed, but Yellow slams into the ground and Red is flung off into the dirt with a bumpy skidding. Lance jostles around a bit but is fine, aside from being a little shaken up. He flings himself out into the storm, bracing himself against the violent gusts of wind and runs over to Yellow. The Lion lets him in and when he reaches the cockpit his heart drops.

The entire space is splattered with blood. 

They had crashed the Lions many times and the impact was never this bad. What did he do wrong? Is Hunk even still alive? He is scared to approach the pilot seat and feels his knees start to give out but he stays rooted to the spot, frozen in fear. Then something worse than seeing the damage to Hunk’s body happens as a familiar yet distinctly different voice enters his mind.

It is the Yellow Lion  _ mourning. _

It feels like hours pass. It takes Lance a long time to gain control of his tears and find the strength to stand to see the remains of his best friend. The gore makes him sick, causing him to hurl and dry heave in the cockpit. He cannot stay here. He cannot keep smelling the stench of blood and death. He has to find Pidge and Allura. Maybe Allura can save Hunk.

He stumbles out of the Yellow Lion, still weak and having to constantly stop or even fall to his knees to catch his panicked breath. When he looks up to see the Red Lion, it is no longer there. His Lion is  _ gone _ .

He curses and it isn’t enough so he screams. The sandstorm still rages on but Lance wants nothing more than to take off his helmet which reeks of his own vomit. He does not have the willpower to go back into the Lion that is now his best friend’s coffin so he desperately reaches to the only idea he has left in his hopeless state.

“Red,  _ please! _ Where are you?! I NEED you!!” 

Despite his relentless screaming into the wind he is met with silence. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t wander out in the storm searching for his Lion or the other paladins - he would easily become lost in the storm. He has no communication with anyone and he does not want to go back into his only form of shelter. There is no way he can possibly pilot Yellow even disregarding the fact he isn’t bonded with the Lion - there is no way he could move Hunk’s destroyed corpse and fly with all the blood surrounding him. 

_ Wait… Hunk’s body was ripped apart but still in the pilot’s seat…  _ as the wheels turn in Lance’s head, he comes to the conclusion that he died from something else. He was dead long before Yellow crashed -  _ and that’s why his Lion powered down. _

He instinctively calls for his bayard but it doesn’t summon at his side. With a sudden panic he wonders if the rest of the paladins suffered the same fate - they weren’t lost in the storm, they were all  _ dead. _

He reluctantly returns back into the Yellow Lion and slowly makes his way to the cockpit. He is expecting to find some entity there ready to take his life as well, but only the crimson mess remained. He stands there for a moment in horror, his heart pounding in his chest and increasing as his instincts tell him danger is near even though he cannot see it. Something wraps around his shoulder but it isn’t the feeling of a hand…

When he turns around, nothing is there.

And then Lance is waking up in his bed, gasping.

It is still dark save for the small slits of outside lighting peeking through his blinds. He looks over at his bedside clock: 3:24. He lets out a long sigh and starts to get up to see if he can walk around and get something from the cafeteria to settle his nerves but he stops when he notices something out of the corner of his eye.

Within the darkness, two hollow red eyes glow faintly in the corner of the room. The longer Lance stares, hoping they would disappear as a figment of his imagination, the brighter they gleam in the shadows. 

And then the thing  _ moves _ , a dark silhouette crawling with sharp, insect-like limbs and a long serpentine body. When a voice enters his mind, Lance recognizes it as the same grating voice from the quintessence field.

_ The Blue and Red Paladin, Lance Navarro, it has been long overdue that we meet. _

He wants to ask  _ what _ it is but his innate sense of manners kick in. "Who are you?"

_ I go by many names. Kolavar. Yitsindu. Taramirr. Eschenderen. Matsukon. One you may be more familiar with - Death. _

Everything grows heavy and he can barely find it in himself to breathe. "Am I dead?"

_ At one point you were, _ the voice says bitterly within his mind.  _ And you should have remained that way. But I'll have to restore the balance by some other means. _

The realization speeds through his mind that if he was supposed to die and didn't, someone else would have to take his place. Shiro's words come back to him and the horror quickly becomes a reality. This is no longer a nightmare, this is a declaration of war.

_ We  _ should  _ have remained dead. _

The entity must have read his thoughts because the voice filled his mind again.  _ Yes, you both should have. _

When Lance blinks the monster is gone.

And then he opens his eyes to reality where he awakens in his room bathed in morning sunlight.


	3. Kotov Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **K O T O V \\\ S Y N D R O M E ::** _This phenomenon, described by Alexander Kotov in his 1971 book_ Think Like a Grandmaster, _can occur when a player does not find a good plan after thinking long and hard on a position. The player, under time pressure, then suddenly decides to make a move that he has hardly thought about at all, and it may not be a good move for that reason._

"Lance has been acting kind of weird lately, right?" Pidge asks as she scans through pages of data on her laptop.

Hunk shrugs. "I dunno. He seems quieter than usual. I think he just has a lot on his mind with his family and stuff."

"No, I get that. We've all got that but...he's..." She growls in annoyance at her inability to word her thoughts. "I just feel like something's off with him. He doesn't quite joke or smile like he used to."

"A lot has happened, Pidge. His grandmother died while he was gone, his sister nearly died-"

"I know, I know..." she says more softly, her eyes downcast. She knows the pain of losing a sibling when she thought Matt was dead. "I tried inviting him to play some video games since I found some of my older ones, but he said 'maybe some other time.' That just...doesn't sound like Lance..."

He rubs a hand across his face, letting out an exhausted exhale. "I'll try talking to him. All I know is I'm tired of reading these mechanical stats for Haggar's sincline machine..."

"I'm just as bored reading the biological scans and toxicology report for the Altean, but we have to find some kind of pattern to better understand what we're up against." 

"It's been  _ months _ and we still don't know what it all means..." he laments.

"She could come out of her coma any day now and we'll get more answers then," she says as she types away functions into her laptop. "For now we have to research what we can." Without looking away from her work she asks him a favor. "You can take a break and go check on Lance, I'll keep on dissecting. Can you please try persuading him to spend some time with us? It doesn't have to be video games, it can be whatever he's comfortable with."

Hunk stands up from his seat and closes his laptop shut. "Alright, I'll do what I can." He frowns and grabs his chin in thought for a moment. "Do you think if I bake him something that'll help or make him more annoyed?"

"You can't go wrong with an offering of garlic knots."

"That's very true."

* * *

"Lance!"

Lance's brows perk up as he turns his head towards his name, finding Allura walking quickly up to him within the crowd of Garrison crew. He wonders why she would call out to him but maybe she just needs to find another one of the Paladins. Despite her incredibly distinct appearance he has a hard time adjusting to her no longer wearing her crown. "Hmm? What is it?"

"I haven't seen you in a while with all the...stressful events as of late. How are you doing?"

He frowns in one corner of his mouth. The pain in his chest is blossoming again, as if some heavy ache suddenly appears whenever he is around Allura. "Oh...kay? I mean," He clears his throat, suddenly self-conscious that the princess is talking to him specifically. "I'm doing alright I guess. How are you and how are things with the Altean?"

"Not good...w-with the Altean I mean! I'm doing fine. I..." Her bright blue eyes shift to the side for a moment as a blush creeps onto her cheeks, nearly hiding her pink markings. "I wanted to see if you'd like to grab a...what do you humans call it? It's a really delicious drink-"

"C-coffee??" Lance practically squeaks with how startled he is that  _ Allura  _ is asking him to go get  _ coffee.  _ Keith making him a handmade best friends bracelet seems more likely.

"That's it! Coffee!" Her eyes sparkle at the thought of it, her smile becoming radiant. It is the happiest he has seen her in months. "I've tried all kinds of variants of the drink and I've found I love all of them! Oh, wait...do you even like coffee?"

Lance lets out a laugh and it feels like healing. "I love coffee. I wish the area wasn't so destroyed, otherwise I'd introduce you to the best place for lattes in Plaht City."

She quirks a brow. "Lattes...?"

"Oh, it's a type of coffee. It's got espresso and more milk than a cappuccino."

"Oh my there's so many terms I need to learn." She gives him a determined face as if she is taking notes for something critical for a mission. "I kind of allow the worker to surprise me each time."

"Well they're mostly Italian words so it's probably even more confusing..."

"Ah! I should ask Pidge about coffee then!"

"I'm not sure Pidge would know..." he mutters, "besides, she dumps so much milk in hers it's hardly coffee anymore..."

Before he can come up with some excuse or decline her invite, Allura links arms with him and starts pulling. "Alright, it's decided! You can teach me everything about coffee."

Lance can't quite classify their evening together as a date, especially since he couldn't even pay for both of them (since they are Garrison staff it was free) and majority of their conversation revolves around Allura's curiosity of coffee and other Earth customs. And yet, he still enjoys his time with her despite the tightness in his chest and the burning in his lungs. He wants to think the pain is some strange coincidence or he happens to be coming down with something but he cannot shake the image of the monster in his nightmare.

_ I'll have to restore the balance by some other means. _

Is the pain he feels around Allura an omen?

Would she be the next target?

He wants to ask her if she has seen it, if she knows about the reaper. But knowing Allura she would have come forward and mentioned it to someone, she would have brought it to the team’s attention…and the last thing Lance wants is Allura doubting his abilities to be the Red Paladin. He cannot muster up the courage to ask her.

Spending time with her on a sort-of-date should raise his heart to the moon and the coffee should warm his spirits but instead there is a heavy dread and an uneasiness gnawing at his mind. His drink tastes bland and he departs to bed that night with the sinking anxiety that he somehow cursed Allura to a fate worse than death. 

* * *

As much as Lance tries to avoid his friends, they keep finding him and inviting him to hang out. The nightmares worsen and he wants to distance himself from everyone for fear of the dark entity causing them harm, but he can't possibly avoid them all forever. Hunk and Pidge practically kidnap him one night and have him over at the Holts (since Pidge is still grounded) for dinner and a movie they enjoyed from their Garrison days. Allura drags him for some coffee again and even Keith makes attempts to call him, mixed in with all the other missed calls and voicemails clogging up his phone. 

Shiro makes an effort to continually check in with him but Lance simply lies that he is fine and only has the occasional nightmare. He doesn’t dare mention the constant aching in his bones or how his chest grows tight and it hurts to breathe around Allura or how he is starting to hear voices during the day. Lance does not want to worry the previous Black Paladin, especially when it seems Shiro is doing fine aside from similar nightmares. 

Veronica presses him to see a therapist and he worries she must have heard him talking in his sleep or something but her reasoning is for him to destress from the battle to liberate Earth from the Galra. He understands her concern for him considering he had to save her life from the crossfire, but he brushes her away as well, stating that this is "normal Voltron stuff."

The Reaper, as Lance decides to call it, visits him in his dreams almost every night but this time he sees him outside of unconsciousness. Whether the entity is in the flesh or just a projection in his bedroom is hard to tell, but its long body is curved around the wall and down to the floor like a massive lizard waiting to strike.

"What do you want from me?" he asks, unaware at this point that he is not dreaming.

The thing chuckles despite having no mouth. Or at least, if it has a mouth it doesn’t use it to speak. Its empty red eyes blink lazily. "You shouldn't even have breath to ask questions and yet here you are, pestering me."

" _ You're  _ the one constantly h-haunting me!! If anyone's being p-pestered, it's  _ me!" _

It tilts its reptilian shaped head to the side like a confused dog. "This is only the second time we've interacted, young paladin."

Lance’s heart skips, his mind running through all the times he encountered the obsidian monster. All those nightmares...the voices he hears during the day... 

Is it all in his head?

"When was the last time you were here?"

"I spoke to you in the quintessence field."

That is the only time the reaper interacted with him? But he only heard a voice in the quintessence field...how would Lance know what it looks like if he has never seen it? "Then how have I seen you before now?"

"You died," it answers flatly. Lance imagines if it had shoulders it would have shrugged. "You know what death looks like."

He does not want to dwell too long on that unsettling answer. "Why are you here then, if I'm such a nuisance to you?"

"To bring a warning," it sneers. "Stay away from the Altean."

_ "Allura?"  _ His eyebrows lower in confusion and worry, his stomach churning uncomfortably. He thinks back to their actual date, where he brought her to his house, where he declared he loved her, and when he kissed her…and suddenly a dread and pain far worse than any of the aches he felt when he was close to her begins to consume his being. He isn’t about to reveal to the reaper that he loves her, although a part of him assumes it already knows, so he chooses his words carefully. "But she's my  _ teammate _ , I kind of  _ have  _ to spend time with her-"

"You  _ shall not  _ be within her presence. She brought you back from death and this is the price she must pay."

He is speechless, uncertain how to respond to the reaper's demands. He is still uncertain what exactly he is up against - is this some kind of god? Is it really Death? Or is it some monster from the abyss of space? He has no idea what it is or what it is capable of doing. Can it take Allura's life away if he didn't follow its command? Is it causing him the pain and the nightmares? He can barely keep track of his flood of thoughts but it seems the reaper is waiting for some kind of response. He grips the comforter of his bed and looks the monster square in the eyes.

"You can't decide that for either of us."

Its long legs quivered like a shiver down its long spine, the smoky tendrils falling from its body thickening as if it is agitated. The glowing red eyes sharpen. "There are plenty of things I can decide - I am Death. Consider that your last warning."

Lance blinks and it is gone, the only trace that it was ever there were two small tears from one of its sharp legs, one on the floor and one on the wall. He stands up and traces the one etched into the wall with his fingertips, touching the proof that the reaper is real, that it was physically here speaking with him.

He will not allow some strange entity to decide his fate.

"I'm going to ask her if she’d like to go steady," he decides in a soft whisper as he retreats his hand from the wall.


	4. Double Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **D O U B L E \\\ C H E C K ::** _a check delivered by two pieces at the same time. A double check necessarily involves a discovered check. By its nature a double check cannot be met by interposing a defending piece in the line of attack, or by capturing an attacker; when subjected to a double check, the attacked king must move, which makes the double check especially powerful as an attacking tactic._

Lance has a pressing need to tell someone about the reaper but he is too scared to divulge upon his teammates and he doesn’t want to cause Shiro any more worry (the man had been through enough). He knows that if he tells Veronica she would ultimately tell all the Paladins out of fear of him not being in the right mental state to pilot. It is a valid concern and Lance himself wonders if he should continue flying Red but he is too proud to step down and admit defeat. He is still scared of the inevitability of his teammates thinking he has gone mad since he has no proof of the Reaper's existence.

The morning after his date with Allura he asks her if she wants to continue seeing him and to his surprise, she agrees. It normally would have been the best day of his life but Lance is only uneasy about the whole situation when he has a reaper threatening him within his mind. It isn’t long after their date that he has a splitting ache in his head. At first he brushes it off as more pain he experiences around the one he is not supposed to be with, but quickly finds out that Luca was telepathically murdered by Haggar around the same time.

Is it somehow connected?

_ It has to be some freaky coincidence,  _ Lance considers. He wonders if he would have similar pain when anyone else around him dies…did the Reaper kill Luca to “retain the balance”? Or is this something more to do with Haggar?

He wishes he can talk to Pidge about all of this. If anyone could figure it out it would be her, but Lance is still hesitant to share any details about the dark entity. A part of him thinks he is being irrational and the Reaper is simply a nuisance haunting him, but another part of him is terrified that this would escalate to something catastrophic. If that is the case, he has to do something to warn his teammates so Voltron could be prepared. 

But the doubt keeps seeping in.

* * *

“There they are! The Olkari cubes!” Coran observes as they near the white hole to Oriande.

“I'm not picking up any energy signatures,” Iverson says. “They must not be active.”

“I'm picking something up,” Veronica announces as she turns back to look at Allura. “It's coming from the white hole.”

“The Guardian,” she says softly, waiting for the White Lion to make its appearance as they near the gate. When two sincline machines come through the white wall instead, Allura gasps, outraged. “No! Where is the Guardian?” 

There is a sinking in the pit of Lance’s stomach. If the White Lion isn’t there, something happened to it. And he has a feeling the Reaper has something to do with it. 

“We don't have time to engage these Robeasts,” Keith says, turning to Shiro. “Can you clear a path?”

“We'll get you through,” Shiro assures.

As they make their way through to Oriande, the Atlas helping in holding back the robeasts, the other robeasts on different planets already succeeded in siphoning the quintessence. Large magenta beams of energy travel to the Olkari cubes, forming a bright glowing circle around the white hole. Just as they pass through, Lance feels a chill travel up his spine, his head starting to scream in pain the same as when Luca died. 

“Look out! Behind us! We gotta move!” he warns just in time to help Voltron avoid the final beam connecting down to the temple. The configuration for a portal appears above Haggar and they all see the familiar white shape as it writhes in pain.

“The Guardian!” Allura shouts. “She's draining its quintessence! NO!” It doesn’t take long for Haggar to see her plan through as the Lion disappears out of existence. Lance sees stars in the edges of his vision from the pain that sears through his eyes. He can hear the rage and mourning in Allura’s tone as she cries out, “ _ She's destroyed the Guardian! _ We have to stop that witch immediately!”

_ Wasn’t the White Lion like a god?  _ Lance wonders. He’s not sure what is more terrifying - that Haggar destroyed it or that the Reaper is capable of taking its life. As they fight the robeasts they take heavy damage and Lance has a hard time connecting to his Lion. It isn’t all that abnormal for him but Lance gets the impression he is only flying a machine, not a magically bonded sentient ship. That empty feeling alone causes his heart to beat faster.

Then at the worst time possible, Lance is pretty sure he is hallucinating again.

“Huh? Wha- What is going on? Are those people down there?” 

“According to my readings, we're seeing into other realities,” Pidge explains.

So he isn’t hallucinating. It’s little comfort, however. “What?”

“There must be some kind of rip in the fabric of time. The essence of realities is leaking out. Honerva is tearing apart timelines. She could cause irreparable damage to reality itself!”

As much as Lance has trouble understanding Pidge’s explanations, this one seems pretty clear. He watched enough sci-fi growing up to know that destroying timelines was dangerous. The closer he looks, he observes Honerva is…  _ flickering _ . Different versions of herself flash and Lance has to wonder how this isn’t killing her.

And then kneeling before them is Lotor’s sincline machine, brought back from the quintessence field. 

“This was Honerva's plan all along.” Keith sounds unnerved.

“ _ No _ ,” Allura breathes. “He's back. I can't- No!”

They are all shaken up by this revelation but despite how hard they fight, none of their blows hit the sincline machine - even the twin swords are futile. Lotor pounds them until all the Lions are split, falling to the ground and completely powered down.

“Does anyone copy? Blue, please respond.” Lance hears Allura’s voice faintly in his comms. “Time to end this.”

_ The time to act is now! _

Red is unresponsive but Lance hears its voice resonate in his mind. He blinks, grabbing the controls and pushing through the pain as he sees the Pink Paladin make her way to Haggar. “Allura!” His Lion powers up and he fights against the Altean in the robeast blocking his path.

Just as he is about to fire his cannon the reaper slithers around his neck.

_ You cannot save her. _

And then everything goes black.

_ You think you’re so special just because you’re a paladin of Voltron? _

Lance opens his eyes to complete darkness but he can see himself just fine. He looks around cautiously but there is nothing but neverending black surrounding him. He hears indiscernible whispers and the movement of something large and fast. 

“Y-you’re no match for Voltron,” he breathes, uncertain how else to counter its statement.

_ I am the  _ only  _ match for Voltron. _

If that declaration isn’t enough to turn Lance’s veins cold, the glowing white eyes in front of him and what the disembodied voice hisses next causes his entire being to freeze on the spot.

_ We hail from the same reality. We are kin. _

“Paladins, are you there? Paladins, respond.”

Allura’s voice pulls him out of the darkness. “We must get out of here or we will all perish,” she says. He blinks open his eyes to find Oriande is renting itself apart as Honerva makes her escape.

“Allura…” He has to tell her. She has to know.

“I'm moving again,” Keith reports. “Pidge, Hunk?”

Pidge groans. “I'm here.”

“Yellow's back online,” Hunk says.

They begin to head out, Pidge’s panicked voice cutting through the comms. “The white hole is closing. If we don't get out, we'll be trapped here forever!”

Lance can’t tell if the twisting in his stomach is from anxiety of their predicament to escape or his interaction with Death moments ago. All he knows is that his heart strains like it is about to burst out of his chest and he can hardly wrap his head around everything that Haggar accomplished and the revelation the reaper unraveled. He always felt strange about the Lions' bond and their sentience but it never quite bothers him. He isn’t certain he can trust the validity of the Reaper's words since it might only be a scare tactic, but he also has a hard enough time connecting with Red that he doubts he can ask his Lion if it is the same as the dark entity.

When they barely escape the white hole and travel to safety via wormhole, Hunk asks the question burning on everyone’s tongues. “What the heck just happened?” 

“We _ failed, _ ” Allura announces soberly. “And every reality will pay the price.”


	5. Domination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **D O M I N A T I O N ::** _a situation that occurs in games and in endgame studies when a piece is attacked and appears to have a number of destination squares, but the squares are guarded and the piece cannot avoid being captured._

“Tavo, I want to thank you for speaking with me.” Allura finally gets the chance to speak with one of the Alteans and she can’t help but feel a warmth blossom within her chest. Not only is she hoping to get some answers out of the Altean, but she is ecstatic to be connecting with another one of her people. 

“Forgive me, Princess Allura,” Tavo replies with a voice of warning. “But we don't have much time.”

“I'm sorry?”

_ "Please _ . Once Honerva discovers I'm speaking with you, it will be over.” His voice is feverish, his tone paranoid as if he is expecting Honerva to appear looming over his shoulder any second now.

“Slow down, what are you trying to-?”

“Listen to me. Now that she has Lotor, she will use him to destroy everything-!!” He winces sharply and then holds his head and shouts in pain, falling to the side of his chair and hitting the ground unconscious. Allura dashes quickly to his side.

“Tavo!” She cannot find a pulse but there is something else she can sense. She stops the two medics who rush into the room. “Wait!”

Placing her hand over the Altean’s chest, Allura’s hand begins to glow with a white alchemic light. “I feel something…” There is a  _ different _ kind of heartbeat, something else living inside Tavo. She uses her alchemy to draw out whatever is in him, and as black smoke emanates from his body, a small dark red sphere floats up into the air. Allura looks at it curiously, wondering what the entity can be…

And then its dark red form illuminates and turns violent.

“Get them out of there!” Sam yells from the other side at the room’s controls. “Reverse the magnetic polarity once the room is cleared. The impulse prism just might stabilize the foreign object.”

They are successful in pulling Tavo out of the room and safely locking the organism within. Once Sam and his team contain the organism where it can be observed, he invites Allura to see it more closely. The dark red orb is still illuminated with a bright purple center, its edges wispy with four claw-like appendages. It doesn’t appear agitated within the sealed green container, but merely floats at the center.

“This unit uses the ship's crystal to energize the optronic vacuum casing,” Sam explains. “It was designed to contain diseases, but it should suffice until we find a more permanent solution.”

“Thank you, Sam,” she says, pausing a moment. “That  _ thing _ , it was as if it was... _ communicating _ with me. Whatever this is, it might be how Honerva connects to the Alteans.”

Sam looks at her with a pensive expression. “Perhaps you should get some rest. It’s best if everyone stays away from this until we learn more about...”

Allura stares at the entity as it starts to move around, its form stretching and gliding about as if it is in water, leaving a smoky blue and purple trail in its path. Sam’s voice fades into the background as her mind senses it trying to communicate with her once more…

“Allura?”

She gasps, shaking away her spacing thoughts. “You're right. Best to stay away.”

* * *

Ever since the announcement that they are going to head down to Clear Day, Lance has a difficult time sleeping. He brushes it off with the valid excuse of having too many nightmares, but he is still uneasy as he wanders the halls to find a snack in the Atlas’ kitchen. The ship reminds him of the Garrison so he oddly feels transported back to his school days. 

Before he can make it to the hallway that leads to the kitchen he hears something like a rustling of leaves. It isn’t odd to hear noises on the ship in the middle of the night but something in his gut tells him to go down the opposite hallway. He wanders rather aimlessly until he sees a door that he can swear he has seen before…perhaps in a dream…

When he opens the door he sees a faintly glowing green container at the end of the spacious room and something moving around inside. His chest tightens, his eyes blinking away his sleep and sharpening as he approaches.

His hand draws to it like a magnet, his fingers slowly inching towards the glass container, but a voice stops him.

“Lance?”

He turns around to find Pidge, sleepy-eyed and dressed in her green pajamas. Her hair is wildly askew and he can tell she was sleeping on her left side. He feels like he is caught red-handed even though he has done nothing.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t touch that?” she asks, her sleepy composure melting away. “We haven’t determined the stability of its electromagnetism yet. It’s clearly emitting some kind of particles into the air and they could be  Irradiated or volatile.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t know what any of that means, Pidge.”

“It’s dangerous, Lance. Unknown variables can lead to catastrophic resul-” She coughs, and continues to cough longer than a mere tickle in her throat or swallowing wrong.

Lance rushes to her side, grabbing her shoulder. “Pidge? Hey, are you alright?” 

Before he can run to fetch her some water, her coughs become more violent and suddenly she is sputtering up blood, the thick crimson burbling out of her mouth as it threatens to choke her. She collapses into his arms, both of them falling to their knees, and her amber eyes widen and express an emotion he has rarely witnessed on her - absolute fear.

“Pidge? Pidge!!”

And then those amber eyes still, lifeless.

All he could do is stare as he struggles to breathe. The crimson stains on her green shirt contrast as garrishly as the darkness of the blood against her pale skin. “Pidge... _ no _ …” He runs a hand through her hair, his fingers wrapping protectively around her head as if she is merely unconscious and he needs to rush her to the medic bay.

He knows deep in his bones a medic bay will not save her.

“Allura? ALLURA!!” He carefully picks up Pidge and runs to the Altean’s bedchambers, his vision blurry as tears continually run down his face in his panic. “ALLURA!”

As soon as his shaking hand opens the panel to the door, he slips inside only to find Allura’s bed empty. The juniberry that stands on her dresser is wilted and lifeless, the color drained from its once vibrant petals. He turns around back to the hallway to find her but he is suddenly back in the room where the strange entity resides.

The green glass container is empty.

And Allura is standing next to it.

“Allura, please, you need to save her!”

“I can not save any more lives, Lance,” she answers simply.

His heart skips a beat. “What? Why not? You’ve done it before, you -  _ you have to save Pidge!!” _ he shouts, his knees threatening to give out. 

“Are you willing to save her for a price?”

He breathes heavily, trying to understand what she can mean by all this. “Of course, what - we’re a team, we’re  _ family _ , we’ll pay any price it takes to save each other!! Why can’t you do this for me, Allura?! For  _ Pidge??” _

Suddenly a new voice sounds, causing Lance to turn and face Shiro. “You can’t save anyone Lance…

“Not anymore.”

Lance bolts upright out of bed, gasping for air. His hands lift as if he is trying to hold something but Pidge is no longer in his arms. He wipes the sweat from his brow and tries to take long, deep inhales and exhales to steady himself but his nerves are still shaken.

He runs down the halls to the room with the strange entity to find it is still there, locked safely away. He has a hunch the entity killed Pidge, and the entity was keeping Allura from saving her. He is drawn to it again as he takes steps he cannot resist. The force pulls him closer, his arm reaching out to touch the glass. He cannot open it, he cannot release it - it will kill his friends.

And yet he can’t stop his hand from pressing up against the glass.

But the container does not open despite the lock panel lighting up around his palm. The entity stays floating in the center, glowing ominously and he can feel it trying to connect to him like an invisible tether pulling at his chest. Lance blinks and suddenly his whole arm matches the dark red appearance of the entity, his bones glowing a pale blue and his skin letting off black, smoky trails. He gasps but when he blinks it is gone, his arm returned to its normal flesh. He looks back at the entity and takes a deep inhale. He has a sick feeling he already knows the answer but there is still so much he does not understand.

“What...  _ are  _ you?”

* * *

Lance is constantly by Allura’s bedside in the medical bay. During the activities of Clear Day he suddenly feels sick to his stomach, his chest aching like it normally did when he was around Allura. He leaves the planet before any of the other paladins, rushing to her room to find it empty, his hands starting to tremble as he recalls his nightmare. It doesn’t take long to discover she is in the med bay, Sam informing him that he found her by the entity’s container with the creature missing.

Lance knows exactly what happened. The entity broke out and took hold of her.

She’s practically in a coma and he wonders if he could have somehow warned her, if he told her sooner perhaps this never would have happened. He holds her limp hand with both of his, crying as he hunches over the edge of the bed. It is the middle of the night and he has finally broken down.

“I actually died, did you know that?” He sniffles, looking up at her with a smile between his tears, his laugh anything but cheerful. “And you brought me back. You brought me back from d-death and ever since then I know what Death looks like. It’s - it’s awful. It’s terrifying. It has so many different shapes I can’t keep them all straight. I never know anymore if I’m talking to an actual person or if a random tree is actually real or if it’s the reaper, waiting to jump out and tell me ominous warnings.”

He grips her hand a little tighter. “It’s been haunting me for months… and I don’t think it’s been bothering Shiro although he has seen it…but he’s so much stronger than me, he’s gone through so much…of course he’d be able to fight it off but I can’t, I...it threatens me constantly and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do, Allura…and I can’t help but feel it’s coming for you next.”

He collapses on the edge of her bed, sobbing as he lets out all his pain and grief. When he is somewhat relieved to get those words and emotions off of his chest, even if Allura wasn’t conscious, he realizes something horrible when he sits up straight and observes their joined hands.

He no longer feels any pain around her.

* * *

When her eyes finally open, Lance lets out a breath of relief. “Allura, are you okay?”

“What's going on? Where am I?” she asks, almost frightened. 

“You're in the medical bay,” Coran, who is also at her bedside, answers.

“When we got back from Clear Day, we found you collapsed on the ground,” Lance explains in a worried tone.

“You've been asleep for two quintants. The entity, it's...missing.” Coran struggles to get the question out. “Did you...?” 

Allura’s crystal eyes shift away, her expression hard. Without looking at either of them, she speaks. “I did what needed to be done.”

_ “No…” _

Lance narrows his eyes in indignation.  _ “What needed to be done? _ What are you talking about?”

“This entity,” she says, staring at her upturned palm, “it is connected to Honerva in some way. I believe we can use it.”

“Use it? I -” Lance does not know what to say. He cannot believe she has done this. If anyone is to take on the mysterious dark entity it should have been him. He is already doomed by a reaper and now his worst fears of it coming for Allura are not only plausible but likely.

“I swore to your father that I would look after you, but I fear I may have let him down,” Coran laments. “This is the path of darkness.”

“It is the path toward defeating Honerva,” she answers defiantly.

Lance can’t help but feel like he has already lost. There is no convincing her.

* * *

“You wanted to see me?” Shiro asks as he enters the conference room. 

“We've been working on something, and we thought we'd run it by you,” Keith says. “We think we might have a way to find Honerva.”

“The entity has bonded me to Honerva,” Allura explains as Shiro takes a seat at the head of the table where the whole team is situated. “The link is there whether we utilize it or not. I believe that if the Paladins connect using the shared consciousness of Voltron, we may be able to travel through the void and into Honerva's mind.”

Lance doesn’t like where this is going. He wants to scream that it is the same entity as the Reaper and that they have to get it out of Allura immediately. He wants to tell everyone about the creature of Death so badly but after seeing what happened to Luca and almost Tavo when they tried to reveal Honerva, Lance knows that the Reaper has its grip around his life and could squeeze it out whenever it so pleases. The entities inside the Alteans and now Allura are tied to, if not one and the same, as the Reaper that haunts Lance.

“That could, in theory, give us access to her physical location as well as key information on how to defeat her,” Pidge says.

“Which, after what happened the last time we faced her, could be super useful,” Hunk says.

After a pause, Keith speaks next. “Honerva is capable of creating galactic Komars, wormholes, Robeasts. And now Lotor and his mech are out there somewhere. She is the single greatest threat the universe has ever faced, and we don't have any other leads. It might take lifetimes for another opportunity like this to come around. We think this is worth the risk.”

Shiro’s expression is troubled, almost disturbed. “I spent a lot of time in the infinite void. It took  _ all _ of my strength not to lose my sanity. And if you face Honerva in the void...she will win.” His hard expression softens. “But...if you can find a clue that leads to defeating Honerva and Lotor...it could give us the upper hand in this fight.”

Lance has to speak up. He hopes Shiro will understand and support him since he has seen the Reaper as well. “I don't like the idea of using Allura like this. We're messing with powers we don't fully understand that have ruined countless lives.” His mind flashes back to Pidge’s lifeless body in his arms. “It's- it's  _ dangerous.” _

“Lance,” Allura starts, giving him a sympathetic glance. “We're the Paladins of Voltron. There is no one more capable of taking this on.” She stands up from her seat, willingly facing the unknown of what Lance believes to be a grave mistake. “It has to be us.”

Pidge stands up as well, quickly followed by Keith and Hunk. It gives Lance a little reassurance to see that it takes longer for Shiro and Coran to stand up in agreement, and he remains sitting the longest. If there is any sign that his team would not believe him and go through with this dangerous plan anyways, this is it. He can’t stop them. The least he can do is help them succeed, and do whatever he can to keep the Reaper at bay. Perhaps he can even guide Allura with the entity.

“Let's do it,” he says, finally standing up.

Allura gently grabs his hand. “Besides, the team will have our sharpshooter there to keep us safe.”

He has his doubts about that but he cannot let it show now. “I knew that nickname was gonna catch on one of these days,” he says with a false smile.

“It's been a long time since it was only the seven of us in a room together,” Coran remarks.

“Let's make sure it's not the last,” Keith says.

Lance does not know if he can keep that promise.


	6. Prophylaxis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **P R O P H Y L A X I S ::** _a strategy that frustrates and protects against an opponent's plan or tactic for fear of the consequences._

He couldn’t see it coming.

None of them could.

Despite being saved for last and having more time to wrap his head around what is taking place, Lance isn't ready for Allura’s farewell. He also isn’t ready for her to speak within his mind after taking a hold of both his hands, and after a moment he recognizes it as the familiar presence of  _ Blue  _ interlaced with her smooth voice  _... _

_ I know everything, Lance. I heard you at my bedside…the Reaper has spoken to me, and this is the price that must be paid- _

“No…Allura - there…there has to be another way,” he starts, his voice wavering. This cannot be the end. They cannot have lost so suddenly. 

“No... _ there is no other way _ …” She sounds exasperated, as if she aged centuries from the weight of her burden within a heartbeat. Her eyes are downcast, her heart thrumming in fear despite her resolution to make her ultimate sacrifice. From her tone and body language, Lance understands that her words carry a deeper meaning. She is not merely sacrificing herself to save all the other realities, she is sacrificing herself because the Reaper  _ will take her life regardless _ . Her days were numbered ever since she brought him back to life. She finally lifts her gaze to meet his, her eyes yearning for him to understand. “This is  _ all  _ we have.”

“But you’re too important to the cause, you’re -” He didn’t know what to say. There is nothing to be said that could change the circumstances and it causes his heart to ache as the words choke in his throat. “You’re too important to me...” He leans his head against hers and he can sense her trembling as her tears increased with his.

“I’ll always be with you, Lance.”  _ You do not have to fight this war on your own.  _ She moves her head back to properly look at him as she seals her fate. “And I’ll always love you.”  _ Please remember that… _

When she pulls him in for a kiss, Lance tastes the sorrow on her lips but a warmth blossoms in his chest where it ached for so long. He didn’t want to part from her knowing what would inevitably follow, but when they recede like the tide Lance barely notices the light from his peripherals as he tries to memorize her beauty for one last time.

_ You’ve always had greatness within, Lance. Now you have all the weapons you need. _

Before she leaves to join the paladins of old and be reunited with her father, Allura turns to face her found family, her face sad yet full of hope. Her bright eyes find Lance’s and blink slowly, holding back her tears. She gives him a smile as her voice fills him like the bittersweet touch of a final embrace.

_ Return to the beginning… _

And then she is gone.

* * *

“Is this…? Are we…?” Keith’s voice filters through the comms groggily as if he is waking up from a slumber.

There is a pause until Pidge speaks softly, almost reverently. “Yeah. It’s our reality.”

“ _ She did it.”  _ Lance didn’t need to see the Blue Lion floating dead in the water outside to confirm the truth. He knows it in his heart. The entity is  _ gone.  _ He should feel whole, he should be  _ healed  _ and back to his usual self, but all he feels is a gaping void where Allura and the pain should be. “She saved us all.” 

He stares down at the picture of their first date within his hand and wonders if this is all his fault. Would the Reaper have left her alone if he had only kept his distance from her as it demanded? What if he offered himself up to Death instead? What could he have possibly done against an immortal being of destruction? Perhaps this was Allura’s fight from the beginning…

_ Return to the beginning… _

“I don’t remember that planet being there before…” Hunk’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts as he looks up and recognizes the planet that was  _ her’s… _

“It’s Altea…” he chimes in astonishment.

Perhaps this is the beginning she wanted him to find.

* * *

A year passes and somewhere along the stages of mourning, Lance falls back into the rabbit hole of nightmares and awakes to the horror of Death standing at his door once again. But when Lance screams his angry demands of why it won’t leave him alone and why it had to take her away, the Reaper is silent as if out of spite. Its hollow eyes hold no emotion but there is something foreboding about their stare. It is a foretaste into the chaos it is waiting to unleash.

He furiously throws the closest thing within his reach - his bedside lamp - with perfect aim. It would have smashed right into the dark serpentine face but it passes right through it like smoke, shattering against the wall right before the Reaper disappears into the shadows. Lance is left with heaving breaths and angry tears in a confusing madness that eats at his sanity once more. Uncertain if he is imagining things or if this is his reality once more, he decides to take a walk outside to clear his mind.

He currently lives on Altea at the Coalition’s Headquarters as he researches the planet to find some direction. He has to understand Allura’s parting words and he believes the ‘beginning’  _ has  _ to be Altea…she somehow brought her home planet  _ back _ , it has to mean  _ something.  _ It is easy to play under the guise of being a diplomat of sorts, spreading Allura’s message and giving motivational speeches and whatnot, but no one knows what he is truly trying to uncover.

Some of the former paladins are concerned that he is still grieving and cannot move on, but Lance is good at faking a smile and claiming he is fine. He  _ does  _ grieve Allura, but his heart is more concerned with making sure she didn’t die in vain. The Reaper is still out there and Allura seemed to know more that she couldn’t divulge to him. 

_ You’ve always had greatness within, Lance. Now you have all the weapons you need. _

_ Return to the beginning… _

She said he had greatness when she saw his bayard take the form of an Altean broadsword. Is that the weapon she was referring to? How can a sword help him defeat a creature that can become intangible when it so desires? 

What is the beginning? Why did he have to return there?

Why is he  _ here  _ on Altea?

He collapses onto his knees in a field of juniberry flowers, cradling one of the vibrant pink flowers illuminated by moonlight. His chest is tight and he realizes everything he tries to understand and fix are countless dead ends. He is running in circles and the reaper is smugly enjoying the entertainment as Lance trips down the stairs that descend into madness. 

“What does it all mean, Allura?” he asks softly into the night, his voice thick with emotion. “What am I supposed to do?”

He knows he is not going to receive any form of an answer but it is still heartbreaking to be met with silence. Allura always knew what had to be done to win the fight and he wishes more than ever that he could at least speak to her for a minute to gain some sense of direction. He tries to think what she would have done in his situation, but Lance is not an alchemist…he doesn’t have the powers Allura had to fight the Reaper. He is weak, useless, and blind-sighted. Why Allura trusted him of all people to somehow defeat Death is beyond him.

After spending a few minutes alone with his tears, Lance returns to bed to a night of restless sleep. He is awoken again, however, when a sensation pulls him back outside where the Lions sit. The rest of the former paladins are pulled from their slumber as well, as they all stand in their sleepwear in front of their respective Lions. Each of the Lions lets out a growl as their eyes glow a fierce yellow. Blue is last, her voice coming to his mind in a soft familiarity. 

_ She entrusted this task to you. She knows you are strong enough to withstand it...as do I. _

Lance smiles with a sense of hope he has not felt in ages. He wants to talk to his former Lion and see if he can gain some answers, but just like Allura, the Lions all ascend and are gone from sight.

His markings glow and he does not understand why.

In the back of his mind, Blue assures him that in time everything will align.

But only a hollowness consumes him as another loved one leaves to the stars above.


	7. Blindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **B L I N D N E S S ::** _the failure of a player to see a good move or danger that should normally be considered obvious._

Time passes and Lance cannot find any answers. 

There is nothing on Altea for him but sorrow and regret. Eventually he returns back home and helps his family on the farm as a way of finding some well needed  _ peace _ , but even there the pain mocks him from the patches of juniberry flowers. When he visits the Garrison to have lunch with Veronica it is even worse. Not only is he flocked by people for being a former Paladin of Voltron but they all continue to pester him with questions about  _ her.  _ They weren’t exactly public with their complicated relationship but everyone is treating him as the “ _ widow  _ of the great Allura,” as if they were  _ married. _

_ We weren’t even that serious… _

The experience tears a hole in his chest and he has never felt so alone. The only other friends he still has on Earth are Pidge and Shiro. Pidge is constantly too busy with some new Defenders program he barely understood when he briefly chatted with her, and Shiro is finally at peace after his marriage. The last thing Lance wants to do is bother him with his problems. 

A lot of empty nights pass. He continues working on the farm because he doesn’t have to think when he does manual labor. He can remain numb and work on getting whatever quota has to be met for the day. He falls into a routine that becomes a mechanical process where he can ignore his turbulent feelings and accept the nightmares as a normal part of his life now.

Just another routine.

The only problem is that he inherited his perceptiveness from his family. They can tell something else is going on. His mother continually tries to get him to open up but Lance never budges. He brushes it off as exhaustion from all his years in space. He claims he is fine, just working through grief. He gives the excuse that he only needs more time to heal.

But how can he heal when he is reminded of her every time he sees his reflection?

There are a lot of broken mirrors at their house.

* * *

Reality doesn’t scare Lance anymore.

He saw Death. He saw Allura die.

That is his reality.

That’s when the nightmares became less like real life and more akin to madness. He cannot describe the horrors he sees and can barely fathom what he experiences. They become so twisted and disturbing that it is enough to strike fear into his heart once more, leaving him restless and gasping for breath in fists full of sweaty sheets. He has somehow fallen back to square one…

_ Return to the beginning… _

_ No,  _ Lance thinks, shaking his head.  _ That can’t possibly be what she meant.  _ He still has no idea what Allura’s parting words are supposed to mean. All these years he spent “spreading her message” when he was only desiring to understand  _ what the message was _ . Allura wasn’t being vague and mysterious, she was giving him some sort of warning. He knows she was saying something which  _ he  _ would understand but the Reaper wouldn’t, and every time he repeats the words in his head he feels he has failed her. 

He isn’t smart enough to figure it out. He isn’t strong enough to endure the nightmares. And in the end, he isn’t even brave enough to ask for help. One day Veronica strong-arms him into a therapist’s office, fearing for his health and stability. But Lance cannot spew to a therapist how he has regular visits from Death itself - everyone would believe he has gone utterly insane. 

So he pretends that his only concern is that of mourning.

It makes him sick. Acting like he is still grieving after  _ three years  _ of the death of his girlfriend when they mutually agreed it wasn’t working for either of them. They were planning to break off after the war settled down to avoid any tension among the team…but that never happened.

The whole ordeal still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He does not know how to love someone and the only one he thought he ever loved is dead. What makes everything worse is how everyone else perceives their relationship. It is as if the whole entire galaxy expected they would get married after the war was won when in reality, Lance and Allura agreed to break up. 

Does he still love her? Definitely. And she him, as her last words were a testament. But he is tired of pretending she is something more when she is only his friend. He is tired of all these heavy connotations attached to his grief, of the pity being deeper than necessary. He is tired of Allura being something she isn’t, and his pain labeled as something far less dire than the truth of his suffering.

He isn’t mourning the death of his girlfriend.

He is barely surviving the onslaught from a deity that murdered his friend and threatens to destroy the lives of everyone he loves.

And no one can understand that.

One night he tries calling Shiro but his doubts win and he hangs up before it could be answered. Shiro knows about the Reaper but would he even believe things have gone this far? That it is  _ still  _ affecting him when the war has ended? Wouldn’t he think Lance is merely grieving like everyone else?

Shiro’s face appears on his phone moments later. Lance doesn’t answer. He lets it join the numerous missed calls and ignored messages, another log added onto the growing fire of his contained insanity. He has fallen too far into the realm of darkness. No one can save him now.

He is ultimately alone.

* * *

“Director Holt!”

Pidge turns her head over her shoulder to see a familiar face running down the hall to catch up with her. As soon as Commander Navarro reached her she pauses to catch her breath, then straightens up and looks down at her with a bright grin.

“Please, Veronica, call me Pidge,” she says with a smile.

“Sorry, habit within the Garrison. How are things with you?” Veronica asks. 

Pidge blinks blankly a few times before pulling her tinted tech glasses up to crown her head so she can look at her without notifications popping up in her peripherals. “F-fine? Just super busy, I guess.” She doesn’t know Veronica all that well and finds it rather strange she is seeking her out. “You?”

“I’m doing alright, but I wanted to ask you a favor, if you don’t mind. Been trying to get a hold of you for a while, actually.”

“Oh! Umm…” Pidge looks away in embarrassment for a tick. “Yeah, my schedule is pretty swamped. And I work strange hours. I’m a mess - I mean  _ it’s  _ a mess.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “I was just about to grab something from the cafeteria, want to join me?”

“That sounds excellent.”

Once the two women fill their trays and find a relatively secluded spot in the bustling cafeteria, Veronica’s bright demeanor disappears as she looks at Pidge across from her with a stoic expression. Pidge feels the nervousness in her stomach rise when Veronica confirms her suspicions on what this is all about.

“It’s about Lance,” Veronica starts, her voice sober. “I know you two are more than just Paladins of Voltron, you’re  _ friends.  _ And…I don’t know how to help him anymore.”

She lowers her brows and her heart skips a beat. She can hear the defeat in Veronica’s voice and she has never seen the Commander so  _ lost _ . She is an analyst and a genius that can rival herself, and yet she looks as if she has given up. Seeing her like this in regards to her own brother has Pidge wondering what exactly Lance is going through.

“He didn’t show up for Allura day last month…” It is the first time he has ever missed, which Pidge finds odd considering it has been three years. If Lance is going to miss the celebration of Allura and a time to reconnect with his friends, she figured it would have been the first and possibly second year as he battled his fresh grief. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

“That’s the problem,  _ I don’t know  _ ,” Veronica answers tersely. “He’s not opening up to  _ any  _ of us, and even though I dragged him to a therapist he seems more…unhinged...than ever.” Her icy hues are pleading, her lips twisting into a frown. “Please…I know it’s a lot to ask but...I wonder if a fellow Paladin might be able to save him. You’ve witnessed the same horrors he has…perhaps you can relate to his pain and pull him out of this darkness he’s in…”

Pidge is quiet for a moment, allowing her words to sink in and take root. Her feelings in regards to Lance are a messy hurricane of confliction and pain and yearning, but deep down he is still her friend, her  _ best  _ friend. She continually invited him to events and sent him messages and left voicemails that he was certainly too depressed to acknowledge. She knew this, but a part of her ignored the red flags and she isn’t sure  _ why.  _

Has it really been three years?

When did this chasm grow between them?

And why had Pidge been so blind to it?

She pulls up the screen on her watch and scrolls through her calendar, searching for an available day. She taps a few times on the projected screen and then closes the application, returning her full attention to Veronica.

“Matt is going to have to give the presentation on Saturday to the new cadets whether he likes it or not. I’m seeing a friend that day.”

* * *

This turns out to be harder than she could imagine.

Pidge stops in her tracks shortly after exiting her ship, her eyes staring blankly at the vibrant magenta flowers swaying in the gentle breeze. Her coat buffets around her knees and her hair brushes against her cheeks. Her body stills, her lungs hollow as her heart sinks deeper and deeper.

_ Remain curious and fearless. _

She is always good at remaining curious but now as she sees the bright petals that remind her of Allura and her last words to her, Pidge is feeling anything but fearless.

_ The old gives way to the new. _

She wants the old way. She wants things to return to how they were. She wants to be close friends with everyone again. She wants to be back piloting Green. She wants to return to her found family after she literally found her own. She wants… 

She wants Allura back.

She would endure all the pain of watching the one she loves being happy with someone else if she could just  _ have Allura back.  _ She didn’t care that it rented her heart in two - the pain left in the wake of Allura’s absence is far worse than any heartache she felt from her shattered desires. And despite her childish thoughts of wishing Allura was simply not in the picture, she could never dream that it would end up like this. Her first priority is always the happiness of her friends above that of her own.

Then how could she have been so selfish in regards to Lance? 

How long has he been alone with nothing but reminders of their late friend?

She hardly notices her surroundings as she stares at the grievous flowers, her vision blurring as her emotions come crashing down like a floodgate finally bursting at the seams. Then suddenly within the wake, there is a hand on her shoulder and a voice she barely processes.

“Pidge?  _ Pidge!” _

There are no more words exchanged. She collapses into his embrace and sobs into his shirt, clinging to the fabric like a lifeline, whether to save him or herself she is uncertain. In the moment of realizing her sorrow, she understands how deeply she misses Allura…

And how deeply she misses Lance.

And how she cannot afford to lose him too.


	8. Dead Draw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **D E A D \\\ D R A W ::** _a drawn position in which neither player has any realistic chance to win. A dead draw may refer to a position in which it is impossible for either player to win (such as insufficient material), or it may refer to a simple, lifeless position that would require a major blunder before either side would have a chance to win._

Pidge could never foresee that she would be the one so desperately in need of Lance's comfort, not when it should be the other way around. She should have been there for him after Allura passed, but instead she ignored him when he needed her the most. Yet he still welcomes her back with open arms. It doesn't seem right, and nothing can quite shake the feeling of guilt weighing down on her shoulders.

She was blinded by her pain. As much as she hates to admit it, she knows deep down the real reason she ignored him is because she was trying to get over him. She figured that the ache in her heart would fade if she let everything go - let  _ him _ go - if she stopped talking to, or seeing or even thinking about Lance.

But she was wrong.

The pain only festered into some new form of destruction. Not only did her anger and frustration build up from years trying to ignore an issue that needs to be addressed, but she left Lance alone in the dark to fend for himself. She let her jealousy and hurt get in the way of seeing what happened beneath the surface, and for that, she would not forgive herself.

Lance loved Allura. Pidge tries to put herself in Lance's shoes, imagining what it would have been like to finally be together with Lance only to lose him to the unforgiving grip of death for all eternity. She would be devastated beyond imagination. 

As she cries in Lance's arms, the only coherent thought she can decipher through her tumultuous emotions is one constant question:

_ How did Lance last for so long? _

For if she were in his place, she would be falling to pieces. 

__

* * *

It is strange being around Pidge again.

There is a warm familiarity about her presence that he didn’t realize he missed, but things between them are vastly different from their time in space. It seems like it was only yesterday they were playing video games together and yet at the same time it feels light years away. He wonders how she feels about being around him after three years of silence, if she feels something similar. He hates this chasm currently between them. The distance grew over time, caused by a number of factors, and some of them were completely out of his control.

He can already hear Hunk's reprimanding voice in his head - _if you missed her so much,_ _you should have kept in touch with her!_ \- but to be fair, Pidge failed to keep in contact with him as well. He wonders if that means she doesn't _want_ to stay friends, but all the Paladins drifted apart after the war much like their respective Lions...drifting somewhere stretched across galaxies and realities. Much like Voltron, they are all stronger together. But reuniting everyone is nothing more than an impossible dream considering the gaping distance between them...

Not to mention the gaping hole where Allura belongs.

Things can never be the same because of that.

Spending time with Pidge is opening up an old wound that never healed correctly, sterilizing it and stitching it back up correctly. They both share tears as they properly grieve Allura and reminisce over their time together as Paladins. It is painful and at times difficult, but it is healing. Pidge helps him realize how utterly alone he has become and how much she fills up the hole in his chest. It feels like she never left. It is still different from their days as kids, but she was anchoring him down through this time of turmoil, a constant comforting presence he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

He never thought his absence would make such a hole in her life as well. But her tears and tight embrace tell him otherwise. She needs him just as much as he needs her.

They are stronger together.

It takes a few more visits from Pidge and some encouragement from Hunk via video chat, but Lance eventually decides to return to the Garrison. He still plans to make occasional visits to Altea in case anything comes up that will help him understand Allura's parting puzzle, but otherwise he would start working full time as Sam's assistant. 

He is completely taken aback when Pidge's father offers the position to him during dinner at the Holt's one night. At first, he doesn't feel qualified for such a position - it seems more fitting for a genius like Pidge or Matt - but Sam assures him that it is mostly a monotonous job of taking notes and filling in data entry. He thinks it will be a good way of easing Lance back into a normal routine without getting too much attention for being a former Paladin.

Which, now that Lance thinks about it, is probably for the best.

Sam is well known at the Garrison but he mostly works in labs and has few visitors outside of higher ranks. Lance is surprised to find that he loves his new job despite the dredging work. The only people he interacts with are the Holts, Veronica, occasionally Iverson, and a few new faces who do not pester him with questions about Allura or being a Paladin. Lance is basically a glorified secretary who occasionally has to do math, one of the few subjects he is confident in, and something he overall enjoyed. He doesn’t wear his blue Garrison uniform like he used to but instead a lower ranking gray uniform to better blend in. He is still treated with the proper respect of a former Paladin by those he works with and retains his higher clearance, but he is grateful to no longer be in a uniform that draws attention to himself. 

He never would have thought that a few years ago.

Lunch with Pidge becomes a regular occurance, everyday permitting he doesn’t meet up with Veronica. They get food somewhere other than the cafeteria to avoid people, whether it is outside fast food or bringing something from home. After a while they start rotating who is treating or providing, a sort of unspoken rule between them. He does not realize it until Hunk points out that in his younger years Lance would have considered these lunches together as dates.

_ “You guys regularly have lunch together? You’re not  _ dating  _ are you?” Hunk asked skeptically over the phone during one of his breaks at work. _

_ “D-dating? What? No, we’re just friends. Is it so weird to eat food together with a friend? And fellow coworker, might I add.” _

_ “Well the Lance I knew in our Garrison days would have considered a man and a woman eating food together as a date,” Hunk laughed. “Remember when you were convinced Marissa was your girlfriend because she liked to sit by you in the cafeteria?” _

_ “T-that was different! We were  _ twelve!!”  _ Lance scoffed, glad Hunk couldn’t see how red he was. "Don't get all excited. I know you're in the honeymoon stage with Romelle and you're dying to go on double dates with your best friend but Pidge is not my girlfriend!" _

_ "Uh huh, yeah. Keep telling yourself that." _

But Hunk planted a seed in the back of his mind that pesters him every day; _ are  _ he and Pidge dating?

He does a double take when he realizes he starts to pay closer attention to how he smells and how his hair lays perfectly and how he returned to his rigorous skincare routine - something he fell out of habit in the depth of his depression. He starts reading books again, genuinely smiling and laughing at jokes (even cracking a few of his own on occasion), helping his mother cook, and all the other little things that he loves.

Is he simply getting back into a healthy routine or is he falling in love as Hunk suggested?

When he sees her bright golden eyes twinkling up at him like a mysterious hope, he isn't sure what to think.

There comes a point where Sam trusts Lance and his work enough that he allows him to test pilot the prototypes. It is strange to get back into the pilot's seat and hold the controls after so many years - the last ship he piloted being Red - but he quickly warms up to the familiarity of his greatest love.

In a short amount of time, Lance changes from a life of being alone and lost and broken to having a job he enjoys, a friend constantly by his side keeping him smiling, and the freedom to pilot aircrafts. It is night and day - it is as if he has gone from drowning in darkness to finally breathing in air and seeing the sky once again. He loves the sky, and to see it again in a way only a pilot can heals him in ways nothing else could.

And then everything is violently torn away from him.

It happens fast and unexpectedly, as if he only had a short reprieve from the Reaper's presence. He was in such mental bliss after all of his suffering that he didn't even consider worrying about Death coming back to knock on his door. But his day of reckoning comes too soon after his established happiness.

Life continues on with the addition of the recurring night terrors and hallucinations. Eventually, Lance soberly accepts it as a part of his life and tries his best to shrug everything off. The Reaper is only messing with him - if it is going to cause harm to him or his loved ones it would have done it by now. It already  _ did  _ when it took Allura's life. The Reaper is finished with its work and has no need to remain in Lance's life but to simply frighten him - at least that’s what he tells himself.

And then Death informs him of a terrifying truth and everything begins to make sense.

_ You are fortunate. She should be dead. _

"She  _ is  _ dead." He is beyond bitterness and fear. His voice only sounds hollow, an accurate representation of his exhaustion. "You took her life, remember?"

_ No...the Green Paladin. She should have died. _

A cold grip wraps around his carefully mended heart, applying just enough pressure to threaten the newly sealed cracks to burst. He can’t even voice his fears as the Reaper paralyzes him into absolute darkness.

_ She should have died but you changed her fate when you interfered.  _

Lance sees Pidge walk in the distance through a crowd of people in the hangar, carefully watching her golden eyes as they smile at some cadets she is instructing. “When  _ I  _ interfered?”

_ Before her torture. Ezor was about to slam her head in such a way that would have killed her.  _ The vision flashes through Lance’s mind and he hears a sickening crack and sees Pidge lying on the ground in the cell with lifeless eyes, blood pooling around her head. A chorus of concerned and frantic shouts of her name fills his mind before the vision dissipates, leaving his chest tight and his heart pounding.

_ Red pushed me to act…  _ Lance recollects in awe, realizing that the Lion must have seen it coming. If the Reaper and the Lions are the same kind of entity as it claims, it makes sense that they both can foresee the future and the many paths it can follow. His stomach falls when he realizes…

If Red warned him to save Pidge from death, then why were the Lions silent in regards to Allura?

_ There’s nothing they could have done to stop it,  _ Death whispers into his ear, the very fact that it can hear Lance’s every thought still sends chills down his spine. The dark entity appears near Lance against the sidewall of an aircraft, this time taking the form of a massive scorpion-like creature. He tries to ignore it and keep his eyes on the shifting people within the hangar. 

_ She was the only one who could stop Honerva’s path of destruction. _

“That  _ can’t  _ be true…” Lance hisses. “I refuse to believe that was the only option.” Destroying entire realities is something he never thought was possible and even though she got close, Honerva didn’t do it all on her own. The alteans that assisted her would have died giving up their lifeforce to power the kumar if Allura hadn’t stepped in. It makes him wonder just how powerful Allura was if she was capable of such impossible feats of restoration on her own. But then he remembers that Allura could bring both him and Shiro back from Death…

_ And since she took in the entity, I helped her restore all realities. _

Lance is more confused than shocked. “...but _ why  _ would you? What do you care about all realities?”

_ Without them only the planes would exist. _

“Planes?” 

When Lance is met with silence he turns his head to find the Reaper has vanished, not even a trace of obsidian smoke left in its wake, leaving him alone with burning questions as it usually does. He doesn’t notice Pidge approaching him until he turns his head back to find her directly in front of him. He visibly flinches and lets out a heavy exhale from the scare.

“Woah, you alright there space cadet?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Lance answers dryly. “You just startled me is all.”

Pidge pulls her tinted tech glasses up to rest on the crown of her head so she can see him clearly. “But seriously…are you okay? You look…you don’t look so good.” She sounds hesitant in her description as if she wanted to say something else.

He begins to open his mouth but slowly closes it, his eyes calculating. He knows Pidge will pick up on the subtle cues that something is wrong once the Reaper returns to making regular appearances in his life, but something holds him back. He wants to tell her everything but would she even believe him? He doesn’t want to sully their friendship, not when it took so much time and pain to get to where they are finally comfortable around each other again. Lance has no one else like Pidge - someone he can confide in, someone who makes him genuinely laugh, someone he looks forward to seeing every day. No one can compare to her and he couldn’t bear to lose her now. 

So he puts on the mask, the one he is so familiar with he sometimes forgets what the rawness beneath it entails. He gives her a smile, forcing his voice to sound unsuspecting and pleasant. “I’m sure I’m just tired. Your dad sure likes to get as much slave labor out of me as he possibly can.”

She offers him a side smirk, lightly punching his arm. “It’s not slave labor if you’re getting paid, goofball.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that name in a while!” The familiar nickname temporarily puts his mind at ease, a respite from the tension in his muscles.

"Probably not since our Voltron days, huh?"

His chest tightens and he can hardly breathe. "It's been quite a few years, hasn't it? Still seems like it wasn't that long ago though."

"I still remember that ridiculous Voltron Show we had to perform." Her eyes light up at the memory, and he wishes he could share in her fondness of the past. 

"Yeah, I still wonder if Keith ever saw that, on space TV or something! I bet he'd be so annoyed at Allura's per...form...ance..."

His veins tense as his heart beats faster with the threat of a panic attack but the presence of Pidge's hand upon his shoulder helps calm the raging sea inside him. She gives him a firm squeeze, grounding him.

"Hey, it's alright. I'm right here. You're fine."

"I'm sorry...I-" His throat tightens, the muscles straining as his mouth runs dry. He tries to hold back his tears - he can't let her see him fall apart like this, not out in public. But Death's unrelenting voice keeps echoing as he sees Allura's face swimming in his mind.

_ She was the only one who could stop Honerva’s path of destruction. _

"No she wasn't!" He slams his fist against the side of the jet, causing Pidge to jump.

"Lance..." Pidge wraps her arms around his neck, her trembling body pressing up close against his. Her voice shakes as it lowers into a whisper. "Please, Lance...you’re okay..." She sounds concerned and scared, which is understandable considering his words would make no sense to her.

His arm grows weak as it shakes and he eventually caves in to wrapping his arms around her. He leans his head down into her shoulder, taking in a gasp as he tries to soothe his aching lungs, tight and desperate for air.

_ Allura couldn’t restore realities on her own,  _ the Reaper whispers as a final message within his mind.  _ All of you mere mortals are still alive only because of me. _

That is when his knees give out, and he and Pidge fall to the floor as the anxiety submerges him, sending him over the edge into the depths of absolute fear. The Reaper is in control of everything, not only their lives but their very reality and Lance can barely comprehend such a terrifying concept.

Last time Lance was there to help Pidge through her storm but this time, she is here to be his anchor. 

* * *

After Lance calms down enough to walk, they make their way into one of Pidge’s empty lab rooms and she brings over two carbonated drinks from her mini fridge in the corner. Beezer is also there, buzzing around at various samples on the table. It makes an exclamation mark at the sign of Lance and sounds a happy noise in greeting. 

“Hey Beez,” he says as he takes the offered can from Pidge. “Thanks. For everything.” 

“It all  _ sucks,”  _ she groans before opening her own drink and taking a sip. “Some days I’m fine talking about her and it’s a bittersweet memory and other days it just punches me in the face and I can’t handle that she’s gone.”

“Yeah…I definitely get that.” Lance lets out a heavy breath, both relieved that Pidge can easily relate but also on edge about how she doesn’t know the half of it with the Reaper constantly in the shadows of his mind. He slumps further into his chair and takes a long drink of soda.

“I…I can’t even imagine how  _ you  _ must be feeling with all of this,” she says with a sigh as she pulls herself up to sit upon the desk, crossing her ankles.

Something in Lance tightens and he cannot help the knee-jerk reaction of being filled with a burning annoyance at her assumption that he and Allura were more than they seemed. He never wants to admit it because it feels like he is soiling her name now that she is dead, but he cannot handle any more relationship pity, especially from someone like Pidge.

"You want to know the worst part?" he rasps, sounding years older. His words are heavy like lead on his tongue but he pushes them out. He needs the weight out of his chest and it needs to be said. "We were planning on breaking up when the war ended. We realized things wouldn't work out. We were too  _ different _ ...I couldn't be the family she needed, I couldn't relate to her problems...and despite how much I loved her, I...it wasn't the kind of love I had imagined. It was like...something was  _ missing _ , and I’m still not sure what. I could never have imagined that Allura would actually love me back but when she did...it wasn't what I wanted. And I have to wonder if it's because of something that's wrong with me." 

Her brows furrow from the overflooding information. Her breath hitches as she tries to get the question out, her voice soft but stern. "Why would you assume that?" 

Lance looks hesitant, his mouth moving silently in struggle. "I...I don't know - I'm not  _ sure  _ \- how I'm supposed to feel when it comes to loving someone."

"What? I thought you were like...the expert on that kind of thing."

He lets out a nervous laugh and it is a refreshing breath from the tension in the room. "Confession time. My date with Allura was my first date. Like...ever." 

She looks like the proverbial rug is pulled out from beneath her feet. He wonders if everything she assumed about him is now being proven  _ wrong  _ and she isn't sure how to process this new information. "Hunk has been on more dates than you," she states in conclusion, taking a hasty sip of her drink as she waits for him to try and deny the statement.

"Oh Hunk's been on  _ way  _ more dates than me, even back in our Garrison days."

There is a pause of silence, both of them taking thoughtful sips of their drinks. Beezer makes a bunch of disjointed whirs and beeps as it analyzes something before letting out a few excited buzzes as if it just discovered the answer to something. Lance can’t help but think it is a parallel to their current conversation.

“I…never would have guessed that.” She makes a gesture towards him.  _ “All  _ of that.” 

“Yeah…but I guess things in life are always a bit more complex than they seem.” 

“Gosh…you must  _ loathe  _ the media,” she muses. “They act like you had already proposed to Allura or something…” She shakes her head and grows pale, looking sick to her stomach. “It’s not fair. To you or her.”

“I’ve…tried to ignore it,” Lance says heavily. “There’s a reason why I tend to travel back and forth between home and Altea.”  _ More reasons than you could know… _

“Isn’t your family’s land protected by the Garrison though? The media can’t go there.”

Pidge catches him in his excuse and he stiffens up briefly. “Uhh well, you know…plenty of them still manage to sneak in.”

She shakes her head in sympathy, unsuspecting. She is so trusting in him it makes him sick to lie to her. “Crazy.”

“What about you? Do newscasters constantly want to know what the former Green Paladin is up to now?”

“Not really. I’ve done a few interviews but they mostly go through our PIO to learn what the Garrison is doing.”

“PIO?”

“Public Information Officer.”

“Oh. Right.” Lance finishes off the rest of his drink and successfully tosses the can into the recycle bin across the room. He lets out a long sigh, then looks up at Pidge with a sad depth to his eyes. “Are you happy?”

She nearly chokes on her drink. “What?”

“Are you happy? You know…doing what you’re doing now. Do you ever miss our Paladin days?”

“All the time,” she admits. She empties her can to try and soothe her throat from her near-choking and hands it to Lance to toss it in the bin with precision. “Certainly I’m glad to be safe with my family again and that the war is over, but man do I miss it. Not only Green, but  _ us _ , being a team. The adrenaline of the fight and the rush of making split second decisions…I miss it. I miss all of it.” There is a long pause and Pidge looks uncertain, her eyes refusing to meet his.

“I’m not,” Pidge admits softly to his inquiry of her happiness, her eyes glistening. “I pretend that I am, but I’m not. And I’m only realizing it now…”

Seeing her teary-eyed causes Lance’s vision to blur as well and his heart aches to see her pain. The Reaper’s words are brought back into his mind and he tries to imagine a world without Pidge in it. She was supposed to die in that cell. She is only still here because of  _ him… _

Suddenly he stands and wraps his arms around her tightly, his sobbing face burying into her shoulder as he lets the tears flow. “I’m so glad you’re here, Pidge…” he manages, his throat thick with overwhelming emotion. He has to hold her and cherish the one thing he prevented Death from taking away. He gets the feeling that if he loosens his grip he might lose her at any moment. “Thank you, for everything.”

She blinks a few times, allowing the tears to spill down her cheeks as she wraps her arms around his shoulder blades. At that moment, the pain of Allura’s death and the sorrow of their long forgotten Paladin days seems to fade. The aching and loneliness from the past three years melts away. It is just him and Pidge, feeling each other’s presence and never wanting to let go. Pidge’s voice is so soft he almost misses it, her sincerity striking to his core.

“I’m so glad you’re here too…” 

* * *

Ever since that day in the empty lab with Pidge and Beezer, Lance is hallucinating more than ever. Flashes of Pidge’s lifeless body keep haunting him at every corner and it begins to spread, all the Paladins making their bloody appearances...he sees Hunk, Keith, and Shiro killed in a number of grotesque ways, their limbs and viscera pulled apart in so many different patterns of blood that they start to reflect the inkblots of the Rorscharch test in his therapy sessions.

He sees Allura in his dreams, telling him that this is all his fault.

She tells him he is not worthy to be the Red Paladin, that he did not fight hard enough to save her, that he failed to live up to the greatness within him. He sees the bright quintessence melting her flesh and pulling apart her veins to weave into strands and restore other realities. Her body is destroyed and reconstructed to satisfy all universes within the connected consciousness of all existence. His entire body aches when he wakes from those nightmares as if he personally experiences Allura’s demise.

His sanity starts to finally break when he jolts awake in the middle of the night from a nightmare where Pidge dies in his arms again, only this time, when his eyes finally adjust to the darkness of his room, he sees his hands covered in bright crimson. He wipes his palms on the comforter and finds that the fabric is stained with red smears. His breath quickens and he tries to keep a level head as he thinks of ways to control the situation instead of letting his fear consume him. The only way to truly confirm the garrish substance isn’t merely a visual hallucination is to taste it. He brings his index finger up to his mouth and licks it, horrified to sense the familiar metallic bitterness upon his tongue.

_ It can’t be her blood…it can’t be!  _ He tries to rationalize the impossible, going through countless possibilities of where the blood came from, but nothing seems like a logical explanation. Finally, he snaps. He gets out of bed and fumbles for his phone, clicking on her name and shutting his eyes tight as he listens to it ring.

“Come on, pick up pick up pickup-” He sucks in a sharp breath when it goes to her voicemail. He hangs up and dials again, his hands starting to shake. “No, Pidge, please…”

“Lance?”

“Oh god you’re okay, you’re-” He swallows hard and tries to regain control of his breathing.

Her voice is groggy from being woken up in the dead of night but he can still detect concern in her tones. “Lance what are you...? Of course I’m okay, what’s going on?”

He stares at his trembling hand. It makes no sense. How did the blood get there? If it isn’t Pidge’s, whose is it? Was a different Paladin attacked? Is Pidge a mere diversion from the real threat? His spine grows cold, a familiar presence chilling his bones. He turns around to find a raven sitting on a tree branch outside his window, moonlight illuminating its dark shape, glowing white eyes staring straight at him. 

“Lance! Hey! Are you okay? I’m coming over-”

_ “No!”  _ His heart nearly stops and he has to pause and gasp for breath to recover from his scare. The  _ Reaper  _ is here just outside his window and he cannot risk Pidge coming anywhere close to its presence. “No, I’m - I’m fine, just a freaky nightmare. Please…please stay home.”

“Are you sure? You’re worrying me…” 

“I just…had to make sure you were okay. That’s all. I’m sorry for waking you, please go back to bed...I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…” Pidge lets out a breath that sounds like a dissatisfied sigh. “I want you to talk to me about this tomorrow though, alright? You…you don’t need to be alone, Lance. I’m here.”

He is quiet for a moment, her voice soothing his frantically beating heart. She waits patiently for his response. “Okay…I’ll be fine. Goodnight, Pidge.”

“...goodnight, Lance.”

He hangs up, staring at his phone which reads 02:37, blood smeared on the lit up screen. He turns around to look out his window and the Reaper is no longer there, only the silver branched tree swaying softly in the breeze. He looks around to find no traces of the dark entity, his room completely still and silent. It is too quiet, quiet enough for him to hear the blood pounding in his ears.

He can still feel panic coursing through his veins so he opts to take a shower to try and calm his nerves. He scrubs the blood off his hands and has the odd sensation that he is trying to cover up a murder.

Perhaps all this time he was.

* * *

“What was your nightmare about?”

Pidge is waiting for him right at the entrance to the Garrison the next day and hands him a cup of Stardollar’s coffee. He takes a tired whiff of it and tries a sip to discover she got him cafe con leche with Cuban espresso. “You got my favorite,” he muses, followed by a long sip.

Pidge stares at him with a deadpan expression. She is trying to butter him up so he would be more willing to share the details he prefers to keep locked inside. “You’re welcome. Now tell me what’s going on.” Her words are stern but she says them in a soft, concerned tone like a mother trying to figure out a solution for her child. She wants to help Lance but he has turned out to be a problem she could not solve.

It is early enough that no one else was around outside, so Lance starts walking along the sidewalk that weaves around the perimeter of the building and she follows. “I have nightmares of everyone dying,” he states bluntly.

She is glad she isn’t sipping her coffee at that moment otherwise she might have spat it everywhere. “What do you mean, ‘everyone dying’? Does this happen often?”

“Just the old team. You, Hunk, Keith, Shiro…sometimes Allura.”

“And last night was…me,” she deduces.

Lance nods, his eyes lost in a thousand yard stare. “And last night was…worse than usual.” Despite his honesty she still has the feeling he’s not telling her everything and the uncertainty scares her.

She continues taking sips of her mocha as they walk in silence. She already knows Lance is seeing a therapist and she is certain he already voiced as many details as he is willing to share but she feels like there is something more she needs to do to help him - something only she can do. She has no idea how to deal with emotions much less comfort someone who is experiencing unimaginable hurt, but there has to be something she can do.

She stops in her steps and waits for Lance to follow suit. He looks at her with his beautifully dark blue eyes which hold sorrows she would never quite understand. She looks as deeply into the blue waves as she can but there is a darkness beneath the surface that causes her heart to ache, a darkness she could not reach nor absolve. She feels absolutely helpless as if she was left on a boat to watch her friend get swallowed up by a stormy sea.

Her arms wrap around his waist the best they could while holding her coffee cup and she buries her face into his chest, listening to his quickening heartbeat. He is a comforting warmth on this particularly chilly spring morning and she doesn’t want to let go. He mirrors her, folding his arms around her shoulders and curling his head down to rest against the top of hers. 

“I’m so sorry…” she says, the words feeling empty in her mouth but it is the best she can do to provide him comfort. "I sometimes have dreams about a mission gone wrong...I've seen all the worst-case scenarios play in my head and...it really messes you up inside. I personally don't know what to do to help with it, but...the best thing I've found to cope with it all is to immerse myself in distraction. I'm sure my dad has some prototypes you can test fly today."

Lance lets out a heavy exhale as he holds onto her a moment longer, savoring her presence pressed up against his chest. "I think flying would be good," he finally agrees. He pulls back and looks down at her with a fond smile. "Thanks for looking out for me, Pidge."

She looks up at him, her golden hues starstruck as a warmth spreads through her cheeks. After all this time she has never changed. After everything that has happened, she is still entranced by his eyes and his smile.

After all this time, she realizes she  _ still  _ cares for him.

And despite all the hurt and pain that came with caring for Lance, she didn't mind. Because when compared to the warmth that spreads through her veins, the lightness in her lungs, and her heart singing in joy every moment they are together, she realizes all the pain is worth it. She would suffer through it all again and again if it means she can see him smile at her like that, with  _ happiness  _ in his eyes when he gazes upon  _ her. _

It is a feeling she has never felt before, and one she believes can only be genuine love.

Katie Holt is in love with Lance Navarro. 

* * *

Samuel Holt does in fact have a prototype aircraft for Lance to test fly. There are various new features he wants to measure while the machine is operating and the only way to do that is to have someone fly it through the sky and run it manually. Lance figures with their technology it should have been easy to test the jets without someone having to pilot it (or that Pidge would come up with some kind of AI simulation), but he can't complain because he loved flying them all the same.

Once he is up in the air the first few tests work without a hitch. Sam instructs Lance through the various controls and when to change settings at certain altitudes or time a mechanism properly. From all his work assisting Sam, he comes to understand a lot of the concepts behind the plane's enhancements so he mostly knows what he is doing instead of mindlessly pushing buttons and pulling levers when told.

The test runs smoothly until a slithering black body with a reptilian head appears only a foot away from the side of his face on his control board. He clenches his teeth, his heart racing as he maneuvers around the rocky landscape of the canyon.

_ Why are you here?!  _ he demands.

_ You should know by now. You should have died multiple times in the past, and yet somehow you are still here to mock my very existence. _

_ Don't you dare preach to the choir. You know I would have traded my life for Allura's in a heartbeat. If there was something - ANYTHING I could have done to save all my friends and family I would have done it!! _

_ How very bold of you. But it does not change the fact that the scales are tipped. I must restore the balance. _

It is no coincidence. The blood on his hands early this morning when he awoke from his nightmare - the very nightmare where  _ Pidge _ died in his arms, the threats earlier about how she should have died in the cell if he hadn't interfered. The pieces all click together with terrifying clarity.

Lance should have died but Allura brought him back.

Pidge should have died but Lance changed her fate.

Death is going to take Pidge to restore balance to the scales.

"No...no, you can't do this!" he says aloud. Visions of her lifeless eyes and bloodied body flash through his mind and he can't stop his hands from shaking as they tightly grip the controls. "Not after EVERYTHING you've done!!"

Lance barely hears Sam's confusion and probing questions on the other end as Death continues to speak to him.  _ I can, and I will. There is nothing you can do to change her inevitable fate. _

"I've done it once before, haven't I? I can easily do it again." The speed of the plane steadily increases as he dangerously maneuvers around difficult terrain. 425. 450. 475.

"Lance, can you hear me?" Sam presses, clearly distraught. "You are going too fast, slow down. You need to pull up or steadily decrease speed."

The Reaper slithers around the pilot's seat, whispering close to Lance's ear.  _ You are useless, Lance Navarro. A mere pawn in this game of chess. You are powerless to do anything but watch all your failures catch up to you...and let the due price be paid. _

And then Death is gone.

Is it on its way to ensure Pidge's demise?

There is nothing left for him in this world but pain and suffering. He caused Pidge so much worry and now he has imposed her own death upon her. He can never relate to anyone the same again. He is haunted by nightmares, he has seen horrors no sane human can handle, and most of all he is  _ tired.  _ His heart is tired from feeling so much fear, so much stress, so much hurt. He cannot endure it anymore.

He is tired of being painted as something he isn't, tired of constantly remembering the death of his friend when he looks in the mirror, tired of never knowing for certain what is real and what is an illusion, tired of every single day feeling like the fight for his very life.

It is Lance’s fault he didn’t warn the team sooner about the Reaper. It is his fault for not stopping Allura from taking in the entity. It is his fault that everything is ruined and it would be his burden alone to carry.

In the end he amounts to nothing. All of the other paladins are living successful lives while he is running in circles like a lab rat trying to solve an impossible maze. He fails to understand Allura's parting words, he fails to change anything, and worst of all, he fails to protect Pidge. There is nothing he can do to make a difference.

Death is right. He is nothing but a pawn. He is a fool to think he can play this dangerous game when all he can do is stumble blindly into the darkness. He tries to play chess when Death has a completely different game board that plays by its own rules. It is bold of him, but ultimately useless.

Useless, useless, useless...

He is a seventh wheel all along, useless to help when one of the wheels shattered. 

There is nothing he can do to save Pidge unless he restores balance to the scales.

_ To let the due price be paid. _

There is only one way to fix all of this, only one way to set things straight. His heart strains as it beats violently within his chest, his hands continuing to tremble as he clutches the controls, pushing the lever that increases his speed. He makes his decision and it terrifies him, but the inevitability of his friends dying because of his failures is a fate worse than any death he could imagine, and the Reaper has shown him  _ many.  _

Numerous voices scream inside his head through the comms, protesting his decision and pleading but the course is set. The controls blare and flash angry red at the approaching collision but he tries his best to drown out their voices of wild fear and concern as he shuts his eyes tight, his vision useless from the overflowing tears.

He strains his final warning to the Reaper.

“Don’t.”

_ Bright golden eyes flashed before his, so full of wonder and love. _

“You.”

_ Her laugh echoed in his ears, so carefree. He wishes he can hear her joy in person one last time. _

“Touch.”

_ And her smile, gods her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It lit up her entire face, it caused her to radiate like the warmth of a sunset. _

_ “Her.” _

He sees his markings glow white before he offers himself up to the scales. 

* * *

_ “I know…I feel the same.” _

_ Lance looked up at her, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth after he confessed his concerns about their relationship. “You…you do?” _

_ Allura let out a soft, melancholic sigh as she sat down on her bed. “Well, not exactly the same reasons you shared, but I do agree that this…this isn’t what either of us were hoping it would be.” _

_ He let out a long exhale of relief. He was scared of hurting her feelings and he had no experience in relationships let alone breakups. Before he asked Allura if they could speak privately in her room, he tried to imagine what his mother would advise him in this situation. She would have told him to speak plainly and express everything he felt in his heart. He had to be fully honest with Allura, even the parts he didn’t like to admit to himself.  _

_ “I’m sorry…I thought things would be different. I really wanted us to work out but I…I love you, Allura, but…” _

_ “I understand, Lance. I do,” she assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can love someone with all your heart but not be  _ in  _ love with them. There’s nothing wrong with that. You must not place any blame upon your shoulders for feeling this way.” She removed her hand and looked down, her bright eyes troubled. “I wanted to love you too, but I think I let my pain overrule my heart. I really enjoyed the happiness you brought me and being with you felt like healing…you’ve been a comfort for me in a dark time and I’m forever grateful for that, but this…it is not what my heart wants.” _

_ Lance nodded sadly. “Yeah…apparently this isn’t what I truly want either, even though I thought for sure you would bring me joy…I’m sorry, this all sounds awful-” _

_ “Lance…it’s alright.” She gave him an encouraging, but sad smile. “I want you to be with someone who will help compliment you, someone who will give you that which you seek. I still love you dearly and I want us to remain close friends because it  _ is  _ fun to spend time with you. But we are not meant to be together. You and I have both realized that, and so…we simply must keep searching for the one who brings us that indescribable joy.” _

_ He finally sat down on the bed next to her and pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you, Allura. I really wanted us to work out and I didn’t want to cause you any pain. But…thank you for understanding.” _

_ “It’s a mutual agreement. I have no regrets about our time together and I know that this difficult decision is for the best, for both of us.”  _

_ He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, his brows furrowed slightly. “Should we…should we tell the team?” _

_ Allura’s thin brows rose and she looked away, bringing a hand up to her lips in thought. “Perhaps we shouldn’t…yet. There’s so much going on and I don’t want the team to worry about us when there are more important things to focus on.” She returned her gaze to him. “I’d hate for there to be any tension among the team when both of us are okay with this decision. If you’re alright with it, maybe we should wait until we’ve finished our fight with Honerva.” _

_ Lance was quiet for a moment as he pondered her proposal. It would be awkward to try and explain to everyone how he  _ really  _ was fine and there wasn’t any drama or shed tears over the breakup when they were trying to save the universe and fight for their lives. It was just another complication in an already complex situation and there seemed to be no harm in keeping this a secret. “That’s fine,” he agreed. “It’s not like we showed excessive affection in public anyways. We can wait until we return home, and I can have you over to dinner with my family as my friend. You still need to try my mother’s pastelitos, they are to die for.” _

_ “Pastaletoes?” Her eyes sparkled with interest. “What are those?” _

_ “Pastelitos,” he corrected with a laugh. “They’re pastries. My mom likes to make guava ones - guava is a fruit - and they’re sooo delicious. I know you like sweet fruity things so you would love them.” _

_ She gave him a warm smile. “That sounds delightful, Lance. I look forward to it.” _

* * *

Pidge cannot describe the chaos in her blood, but the words coming to her mind are all along the lines of pure  _ terror. _

She experiences too many overwhelming emotions at once, her heart racing to try and keep up as her whole body aches, feeling like she would pass out at any moment now. Everything thobs, everything radiates with the same pain she felt all those years ago when she thought Matt was dead. 

This is so much worse.

She speeds ahead of the medics team in her own aircraft, locating on the signal from Lance’s aircraft wreckage. She couldn’t simply ride along with the medics when her hands are shaking so badly. She needs to keep them busy, she needs to be doing  _ something.  _

She isn’t ready for what lays ahead, but she doesn’t know how to steel herself to withstand it either. All she can do is try to breathe normally and keep the inevitable panic attack at bay for as long as possible. She calculates probabilities of the situation in her head to keep her mind busy but her results are doing nothing to help her anxiety for what is to come.

The wreckage is catastrophic. What isn’t on fire or spread across the entire canyon clearing is singed black and warped from the extreme heat. Her logic tells her she would find no survivors within such destruction but she attempts to shut such voices out of her head. 

_ He has to be okay, he has to be okay… _

Lance died once before and survived, so if anyone has the chances of still being alive after such a wreck it is him. Her heart quickens at the thought that this time there are no cyroprods to quickly shove him in, and if he is already dead, there is no healing technology in the universe that would be able to save him. 

And Allura is no longer here to bring him back.

She stumbles out of her aircraft as soon as she lands and finds herself staring at the wreckage with her heart pounding violently in her chest. It isn’t until she hears the medics arrive does she pull herself out of her trance and run forward with uncertain steps. She pulls away a piece of broken aircraft, ignoring the pain as it singes her fingers, and staggers down into the cockpit’s remains.

Lance is mostly in one piece.

Pidge has never felt so hollow. If it isn’t for her fervently thrumming heart, she would have thought all her insides were scooped outside of her. She feels so empty but so heavy at the same time, collapsing to her knees as she tries to gasp for breath that will not sate her lungs.

She tries not to focus too much on the gruesome details, but she cannot look away from his face. His markings glow ominously, causing his bloodied face to look even more garish in the harsh lighting. One eye is closed peacefully and his mouth is slightly open, as if he is merely unconscious or taking a nap. His left eye, however, is slightly open because he can no longer close it…a shard of his helmet cutting into his face is preventing that.

She is drowning and she needs to feel some confirmation that Lance is alive or she’d be swallowed up by the sea consuming her with doubt and fear. The hand closest to her is not entirely intact, but she shakily reaches for his wrist to at least find a pulse. Her panic floods her systems and she can barely do more than stare at his broken face and struggle to breathe as the medics come in and work on getting him out. Two sets of hands lift her to her feet and pull her out of the wreckage despite her protests, calm voices trying to soothe her out of her meltdown.

She couldn’t tell if there was a pulse - her hands were shaking too much.

“NO!!!” She rages against the hands that pull her away. “PLEASE NO, LANCE!!  _ Please!!  _ You have to make it! You have to pull through!! YOU  _ HAVE  _ TO BE ALIVE!!” The rest of her words become incomprehensible cries and screams from her abundance of tears and raw throat. 

_ He can’t be gone, he can’t be gone, he can’t be gone! _

_ It can’t end like this… _

_ I never got to tell him... _

* * *

_ Lance was fairly certain he was in so much pain that his body couldn’t even register it.  _

_ But he knew he was alive…somehow. But none of his senses were responding save for his hearing. He could hear the crackling of fire outside and the occasional spark of something within the aircraft. Everything was black and he wasn’t sure what he was feeling as far as his body went, but it felt like he didn’t even exist anymore. It was a strange contradiction and he could barely believe that he wasn’t dead. _

_ How had he not died? _

_ And then with cold realization…he knew. _

After all this time, do you not recognize  _ who  _ I am?,  _ the Reaper’s voice echoed within the darkness of the strange nothingness of his existence.  _ I am the harbinger of  _ death,  _ I choose who lives and dies and I certainly will not allow  _ you  _ to pass into my realm.

_ Lance wanted to scream. His plan to keep Pidge and all his friends safe was foiled and he realized now how much of an idiot he was for thinking he could kill himself and Death itself would allow it to happen when it clearly gained more pleasure from tormenting him while alive. Lance still didn’t understand why but now he knew there was something more going on in this complex war in the balance of life and death and all realities. _

_ He couldn’t say anything back to the Reaper and he wondered if it was due to the current condition of his broken body. He couldn’t even communicate within his mind which caused him to wonder exactly how extensive the damage to his physical being was. Just because he wasn’t dead didn’t mean he would be fine whenever he woke up, and the thought terrified him. _

_ But he would get up again. Because he needed her to know.  _

_ He had to tell her. _

_ He had to tell Pidge about the Reaper. _

_ This was a war he could no longer fight on his own. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Rosie for all her lovely beta work!! <3  
> As always, thoughts and questions and commentary are most welcome!


	9. Consolidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **C O N S O L I D A T I O N** :: _the improvement of a player's position by the reposition of one or more pieces to better square(s), typically after a player's attack or combination has left their pieces in poor positions or uncoordinated._

At first, no one outside of immediate family can visit Lance.

Pidge tries her best to convince the medical staff to let her in and she even begs Iverson to give her special permission but there is nothing that can be done. Veronica offers to video chat her on the phone while she visits inside but Pidge insists it wouldn’t be the same.

Lance is in a coma so there wouldn't be any talking.

She yearns to see him and hold him.

The damages are extensive. From what health reports she can hack into she learns that forty percent of his body needs skin grafting, thirty-three bones need rod reinforcements, and seventeen joints need total replacements. She wonders how Lance is even  _ alive _ after everything, but he is still comatose and for all she knows he might never wake up or he might be vegetative for the rest of his life and there is still the definite possibility he might die shortly after waking. There could have been all kinds of brain trauma that they wouldn’t know of until he was conscious.

Pidge knows the true nature of her new assignment at work. She is helping out a team of technicians with designing and programming prosthetics and she knows they are for Lance. She was always amazed with the designing of prosthetics and enjoyed studying both Shiro's Galran and Garrison arm designs, but she could never imagine herself creating a prosthetic to save her friend. It is mostly his hands that need help but she hears another team is working on something to fix his eye. Fear gnaws at her mind while she works and she couldn't fight the feeling that Lance would be completely broken both physically and mentally when he wakes… if he ever does.

She spends many nights crying in her bed, wondering what she did wrong. Should she have reached out to him more? Did he need more space? Did she say something insensitive that triggered the suicide? 

It doesn’t make sense to her. She saw his transformation. He was happier, livelier, more like the Lance she knew and came to love. He certainly had his moments of sadness but so did she. Allura's death upset all of them, and he even told her himself that his relationship with her wasn't as deep as they all assumed, that Allura was more his friend than his lover.

So why did he fly the aircraft at top speed into solid rock?

She hacks into his therapist's files to see if there is anything out of the ordinary. According to the therapist’s notes, she did diagnose Lance as mildly suicidal, but he never acted on such thoughts and she didn't flag it as a concern, only something to keep well monitored. Lance suffered "intense night terrors surrounding death" and Pidge thinks that such wording is odd. But aside from the nightmares the notes only speak of depression and antisocial behavior along with a heavy dose of PTSD.

Pidge knows Lance is depressed, that is no secret. She reckons all the Paladins are suffering it in one shape or form. She knows Hunk and Shiro regularly see therapists but she doesn't know if Keith is doing anything for his mental health. She hasn’t exactly done anything aside from burying herself in work, but that hardly counts as therapy when it is more of a distraction than any kind of healing.

Still, Lance's attempted suicide feels like a poisonous thorn in her mind, consuming her thoughts with confusion and worry. Something doesn’t add up and she desperately wants to know what is missing from this strange equation that nearly took her friend’s life.

Naturally all the former Paladins are ready to travel to Earth to visit Lance but Pidge tells them to not bother coming until he could have visitors.  _ Or until he can even be conscious... _ she thinks. Hunk comes anyway with the excuse that he still wants to see Pidge and pay his family a visit.

Hunk arrives late one night when Pidge is still working in the lab.

"Some things never change, huh?" he asks nostalgically from the door. Pidge looks up from her workstation, her lips splitting into a big grin. She bursts to her feet and meets him halfway across the lab into a big bear hug. "How long have you been working in here, Pidge?"

"Mmmm.... since sometime this morning," she answers with a sheepish grin. When Hunk gives her the stink eye she looks up at him defiantly. "What!? I took breaks for food."

"You better have." He releases her and pulls back from the hug. "Now show me what you're working on."

Pidge lets out a long sigh and begins explaining the damages and showing Hunk her designs for prosthetics. Though showing him makes her sick to her stomach, it has an even worse effect on the previous Yellow Paladin. She pulls up the diagrams of Lance's body and Hunk can barely stand to look, suppressing his urge to vomit.

"Oh come on Hunk, these are just the technical diagrams. I could show you the real-life impersonating 3-D model. Or the pictures from when he was admitted into surgery.” She laughs darkly. “Those are  _ gnarly.” _

"No, no. Nononono, no thank you." He turns a shade lighter as he tries to focus on the prosthetics instead of the bodily gore. "Sooo, basically, Lance is missing.... a  _ lot _ of his body."

"Basically? Yes," she answers heavily. "I honestly don't know how he's alive. He should be dead. But I will not let his survival be in vain. I want him to be whole again. I want him to... I want him back, Hunk."

She feels a large, warm hand on her shoulder, providing a comforting squeeze. She looks up at him to find tears in his eyes as well, but a hopeful smile on his lips. "I know. Which is why I have no doubt that you'll be able to bring him back. If anyone can, it's you, Pidge."

She brought Lance back from the depth of depression and now she has to bring him back from the abyss of death. But with the support of her family and Hunk by her side, she has a spark of hope ignited deep within her bones. Out of all the work she immersed herself in to get through her grief, this assignment became the most important one of them all.

They work on hydraulics and technicalities together throughout the night.

* * *

"Lance? It's okay, you're alright." Words filter through the thick darkness, darkness he isn't sure whether it is unconsciousness, a dream, a hallucination, limbo, or something else. He couldn't quite feel anything but he could hear sounds perfectly fine. A heart monitor, supposedly beeping to the rhythm of his heart. Another piece of machinery making whirring sounds. The unmistakable and comforting sound of rain against a window pane.

"Lance? Say something, anything. We're going to take this slow. Just a hum will suffice."

His mother's voice. Is that his mother's voice? Everything feels thick, all of his senses dull as they adjust to the world of the living, however, his vision is still dark. Despite his inability to see or feel anything, something else feels off about his sight. He is confused and scared at the uncertainty of the situation.

"You're under heavy anesthesia so you probably can't feel anything."

That explains the heaviness that envelopes all of his senses. He can barely feel but the little bit that he could feels like he is pinned under a great weight - not applying pressure to the point it hurts, but as if there is an invisible wall encased around the shape of his body so he could do nothing but lay there.

"Lance, you're going to be alright."

Deep in his heart he doesn't believe that to be true.

Despite his mother’s continued attempts, he couldn’t speak. He wonders if the anesthesia is too strong or if there is something wrong with him, preventing him from making words. He is scared to find out the answers. He doesn’t want to face the disturbing reality that awaits him. He eventually falls back asleep to the sound of the machines that are holding him together.

And then another voice wakes him up, only this time it isn’t his mother.

“Lance… I heard you’ve finally reached some level of consciousness.”

It isn’t one of his sisters… it is… someone else…

“Well… I didn’t hear it, exactly… I kind of hacked into your life support instead.”

Oh… it’s Pidge. Definitely Pidge.

He wants to show her some kind of sign that he is alive, that he is hearing her, but he couldn’t move. He isn’t even certain if he is actually breathing with his own lungs or if a machine is pumping oxygen into his body for him. It is impossible to discern anything at the moment aside from sound and the ever present weight holding him down.

All he can do… is listen.

“I’m… I’ve been working on projects that will heal you. Things that will… help make everything easier.” Her voice trails slowly with uncertainty as if she has a difficult time figuring out what to say. “I… I want it to be as easy a transition as possible… a lot...  _ a lot _ has changed...”

Silence. It stretches for a while, the continuous beeps and whirs of the machines surrounding him are the only sounds in the room. For a moment he wonders if Pidge has left, but a small sound catches his attention in the lengthy stillness. He thought he imagined it at first but he hears it again, this time louder.

A sniffling gasp. Pidge is crying.

And then she bears her pain in six agonizing words.

“Why did you do it, Lance?”

_ To protect you _ , he wants to say, he wants to  _ scream _ at the top of his lungs. But she could never understand. He wants to tell her about the Reaper but there is only so much he could share with her. He doesn’t dare tell her about how she should have died in that cell or that Death has an agenda to take her life to restore the balance since he survived when he should have died. Here he is, yet again, somehow surviving while his friends are still in danger when he sacrifices himself for them - for  _ her _ . Even with the greatest sacrifice he is powerless to keep her safe.

Instead of being understood, his friends misinterpret everything yet again thanks to the Reaper.

“I thought - I thought you were  _ happy _ … I thought you were doing okay - that you were moving on…” She pauses to catch her breath, her sobs intense. “I thought - I  _ thought _ I - that  _ I _ was a good enough reason to keep on fighting… I thought I could save you… I...”

Why couldn't he wake up? He wants to reassure her that it isn't what it seems, that he  _ is _ happy, that things are slowly healing, that he wants to keep on fighting, that he is finally happy  _ because of her… god he thought he’d never experience such happiness again that he felt around Pidge... _

She stills at the sound of his heart monitor increasing in pace. It echoes the aching pain in his chest and he wishes more than anything that he could see and feel her presence, especially as her next words slowly crawl out of her aching throat.

"I am glad you're alive... more than you can realize. I... I have no idea  _ how  _ you're alive. You should be dead. Even just the blood loss and bodily trauma alone should have killed you. But somehow... you're here. You're still here. And I feel like such an idiot for never letting you know that... that I  _ want _ you here. That it has always been you... you're the one I've always wanted by my side...

"And now that I've almost  _ lost _ you, I-" It takes her a moment to catch her breath as she gains control over her sobs. Her voice is thick and unsteady when she finally continues. "It's so  _ frustrating _ , it's as if the universe is giving me a second chance when I  _ don't deserve it…!  _ But... I should have told you this a long time ago, but at least I'm telling you now. I  _ need _ you in my life, Lance, because I... because I...

"Because I love you."

_ What? _

Lance can hardly believe what he is hearing.  _ Pidge  _ loves _ me?  _ He wouldn’t believe it out of anyone else’s mouth but Pidge herself. He isn’t smart enough, he isn’t talented enough, he isn’t  _ good _ enough for her...

And yet she thinks otherwise.

He hates that he is stuck in this state of only being able to listen. If only he could give her some kind of sign, some acknowledgement as she bore her heart open to him but instead she had to sit there in silence, never knowing if he would ever wake to answer her. 

_ I want to wake up. _

_ I need to tell her. _

Because deep in his heart he feels the same yearning to never leave her side.

* * *

Lance has no idea how much time passes and everything is confusing. He thinks he is able to talk one day but he isn’t certain. He starts to feel things more but everything feels  _ wrong _ and he believes it’s only hallucinations and warping from the medications but there is no way for him to know. 

His body is probably all sorts of messed up.

He listens to his family and Pidge who continually visit and talk to him. They mostly cry, but he understands bits and pieces of the things they say. It’s hard to focus for too long so he only catches glimpses of talking. One time Pidge tells him they’ve attached some of his prosthetics so he could get accustomed to them while still healing and he has to wonder how much of his body is missing… or how much remains.

Several moments blur in and out of his mind and it feels like a constant struggle against indefinite uncertainty. He has no idea how much time passes but it feels like an eternity until he finally wakes and things feel  _ clear  _ for once _. _

A couple of nurses and doctors rush around the room, monitoring his health and running simple responsiveness tests on him, asking him easy questions he can answer in one word. He thinks part of his face is wrapped in bandages and that’s why his vision is obstructed. A white sheet covers his body so he can’t see the damages and his wrists and ankles are apparently strapped down because the nurse explains it is for his safety as he recovers from the coma. But this means he couldn’t move the sheet to see what is wrong with him - it only unnerves him further. Not that he feels like moving anyways. The medications cause his whole body to feel like lead. 

“Mi mama,” he pleads to one of the nurses. “Por... favor…”

“Your family will be able to see you in a few minutes, okay?” One of them reassures him as she takes his temperature across his forehead. 

“Y Pidge… necesito a Pidge…”

Things became far more blurred after that. He remembers bits and pieces of seeing his family, his mother's face is relieved but there is something else within the depths of her eyes that does not spark hopeful and it worries his mind when he is mostly conscious. With each passing day more and more pieces are connected and he believes he better understands the gravity of the situation.

He should be dead.

It all makes more sense the day he tries to move his leg and he cannot feel it but he  _ hears _ it. He doesn't imagine it - there is a faint but distinct sound... a sound he became accustomed to all those years in space with Shiro: the sound of a prosthetic.

When he is finally coherent enough to be conscious for more than two minutes, Pidge is the first one to visit him and he's not too surprised - he remembers hearing her voice the most as well as his mother’s. “Pidge?”

"Lance? How much do you want to know?" is her opening question and he can't help the feeling of his heart sinking more than it already has.

"Wha... what do you mean?" Simply talking feels like a strenuous effort. 

"There's a lot of shocking news to share with you... and I want to take things at a pace where you're comfortable. I want you to... to be able to adjust to everything as it's…” She swallows. “...revealed."

"Okay... maybe - just tell me the worst news first." He has a feeling he already knows what it entails, but he needs confirmation that it isn't some drug keeping him from seeing the truth.

"Alright... a-alright." She takes in a few deep breaths, staring at where his hand is presumably under the sheet as she speaks. "Your eye... your left eye... it's - it's gone, Lance. We couldn't save it."

_ Gone. _

His left eye.

Oddly enough all he feels is numb. He's certain it's only because he can't fully process the trauma, not quite yet. He can tell this is just as difficult for Pidge to deliver as it is for him to receive so he tries to stay strong for her sake as well. "And the good news?" he asks flatly, his voice feeling unused in ages.

She looks utterly nervous, her eyes scared. "Umm... right, the good news. You... we were... we were able to replace... all your missing parts," she says slowly, steadily, as if she needs to speak slower and carefully enunciate in order for him to understand.

"All my missing parts..." he repeats numbly, never meeting her eyes. "A-and... what... what parts were those... exactly?" he asks as he can feel the tears begin to accumulate. He isn't ready for her answer but he knows he has to hear it if he is ever going to get out of this hospital bed.

"You probably can't feel them anyway..." she muses sadly. "The majority of both your hands are gone-" she pauses when she hears Lance suck in a breath. He shuts his eyes tight and makes the smallest nod for her to continue.

"I'm - I'm okay, please keep going."

He couldn’t stop now, he has to know.

"Okay..." she answers warily, taking in a deep breath before speaking again. "Parts of both your forearms, most of your left arm... your... your right leg. It had to be amputated above the knee, mid thigh. And most of your knee on your left leg and almost everything below it. There were also some bad wounds on your ribs and lower abdomen, with a few internal parts that had to be... reinforced, I should say."

"So... basically all my limbs are destroyed."

Pidge bites her lower lip, her eyes glistening as she continues to stare down at where his hand should be. "Basically," she agrees numbly.

He wonders if she wants to hold his hand. He wonders if he would reach out to hold hers if he could just  _ move. _ The heaviness still weighs on him, the drugs keeping him pinned down and making it almost impossible to move. Though he wonders now if it’s the drugs or the fact that his body is traumatized from losing so much of himself. Despite the advances of technology it will take time for his nerves to adapt and become accustomed to the new artificial parts. How long will it take for him to feel whole again? Or will he ever feel whole again?

Pidge breaks him from his thoughts when she speaks again. "We're going to make everything okay." She lifts her gaze to look at him and he meets her eyes to see they are flooded with pain. "We are going to ensure you are okay. You are going to be okay. You  _ have _ to be okay."

He doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince him or herself. He is suddenly reminded of her confession while he was partially out…  _ Pidge loves him _ . He sees her in a different light now and she's no longer just a concerned friend but someone who can't live without him.

Him.

Useless him.

"I suppose it's a good thing I'm no longer a Paladin, huh?" he asks sadly, his voice starting to feel more normal.

"Well… that doesn’t matter, Lance. I still want to make you better… you’re going to be alright. It will take time, but I will ensure that… that you will feel normal again, as close to it as you can."

He makes a scoffing snort and he's slightly surprised he can make such a sound in his condition. He immediately feels bad, realizing that Pidge is doing everything she can and he is sounding ungrateful. "Sorry. I can only imagine this is just as hard for you." He sighs and looks more closely at her, realizing what felt off to him this whole time. "Y-your hair… it's so much longer…"

"Oh… yes, I've been growing it out," she says with a smile.

"How… how  _ long _ have I been out?"

Her expression darkens and he knows her answer can't be anything good. Her eyes lower and she looks pained by her response. "You  _ were _ in a coma… but… it's been a little over a year since the crash…"

_ A year.  _ Over  _ twelve months. _ He missed his twenty-fourth birthday. His family probably wondered if he would ever wake up. He starts to realize how  _ stupid  _ his decision to ram into the canyon wall was - he is up against Death itself, a cosmic being on the level of a god and he thought sacrificing his minuscule insignificant life would change anything. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do, if there is anything he  _ can  _ do, or if he is hopeless to suffer the consequences of his stupid actions and watch all his loved ones die as he is powerless to do anything in his now broken body.

"Lance?"

Her voice snaps him back to the present as he inhales sharply. "Yeah... it's a lot to take in." He starts laughing, not too certain why. "Man is that the biggest understatement or what?"

"Yeah..." she says softly, her eyes narrowed in pain. "They - the doctors - want to know if you're ready to start training your new prosthetics or if you want to wait until tomorrow."

"I have a choice?"

"You're deemed fully conscious and ready to start physical therapy but they said they could give you some wiggle room on when you wanted to start. Some patients need the extra time to process things while others don't like the anticipation and want to start right away."

"Makes sense... can I..." He is scared to ask the question but he knows it is something he needs to understand sooner rather than later. "Can I see my body?"

Too many times he woke up partially conscious but could not see what lay beneath the sheet. Too many times he thought he felt something wrong but couldn't make any sense of it. He is terrified to know the truth but not knowing somehow feels worse.

Pidge nods. "I'll go get the doctor."

Nothing can prepare him for what he sees.

Most of his body is  _ gone _ .

The prosthetics are physically attached though not activated, not fully connected to his nerves, which he thinks is done purposefully to be less shocking than seeing the stumps. Pidge was right, most of his hands are gone. His left hand is completely gone while his right hand only retains the flesh of his ring and pinkie fingers and about half of his palm. Most of his forearms are missing. His entire right leg is missing, and half of his left as well. There are massive dark scars along the left side of his torso and he's certain there's a bad scar on his face where he lost his left eye. Staring at the mess of his body feels both surreal and terrifying.

He wonders why he doesn't cry. He only feels numb, like this is some strange dream or another hallucination brought on by the Reaper. He doesn't feel like he's lost half of his body and he knows that's because of phantom limb sensation but it feels like something more than that.

Apparently most of the prepping of his limbs happened while he was unconscious in the coma, so all that's left on his road to recovery is adapting and learning how to use his new limbs. He needs to grow accustomed to the electric synapses of his artificial parts connecting to his nervous system and learning how to properly control his mechanical parts. The doctors tell him his recovery time should be shorter than most amputees simply because he's had more time to heal thanks to the coma. The nurses would regularly move his limbs for him while he was unconscious so the muscles wouldn't grow weak and he could have a quicker adjustment period when he awoke.

Connecting the nerves hurts something horrible, as if he is stabbed with needles at the ends of his limbs, making him acutely aware of the stumps and his lack of flesh. The phantom limb pain is no longer there when he can feel the pain of where his limbs stop. The first time he lifts his arms and moves all ten fingers it feels surreal. These are not his hands but they simultaneously are his hands.

While he cannot feel anything in his metallic parts, he can still move them. It's an alien concept to grasp and there are many nights where he cries himself to sleep. Just when he thinks he has mostly adjusted to his new arms, it is time to try walking. It will be especially difficult because he doesn't have complete arms to help support him on crutches. Learning to walk will not only be agony for his legs, but his arms as well, and that is why the therapists work with him for over a week trying to strengthen only his arms. He slowly reaches the point where he can write - albeit sloppier than his usual penmanship - and type, and even toss a ball back and forth. Though it is simple exercises they are unbearably taxing and he can't even imagine what trying to walk will feel like.

The first time he leaves his room - sitting in an electric wheelchair which he can control pretty well with his unfamiliar prosthetic - he realizes he's not at the Garrison hospital but a specialized prosthetics wing. Down at the physical therapy gym he sees people training of all ages and he finds himself tearing up when he sees a little boy no older than eight, stumbling and falling with a new artificial leg. Lance definitely has it worse - every doctor and nurse agrees he should have died from his injuries let alone the trauma - but somehow seeing kids so much younger than him facing the fear and pain of losing a limb makes his chest grow tight.

If they can do it, so can he.

Mona, his main physical therapist and Hunk's older sister, leads him over to two long bars. He knows what this is and what he's expected to do.

"We're going to take this real slow, okay?" she says, placing her hands beneath his armpits to help lift him up onto his feet. "You ready?"

He takes a deep breath, nodding his head.

She helps pull him up and he does what he can to try and straighten his legs and he feels so light at first, feeling that this is easy, this is going to be fine-

And then his weight settles down and he wants to die.

He grips her shoulders for support and she starts wincing. "Ow ow ow Lance, you're gripping too hard!!"

"Right! Right, sorry. Quiznack." He tries to ease his grip - something he still can't quite get the hang of - and wants nothing more than to plop back into the wheelchair.

Mona seems to recognize this urge and keeps him standing up. "Deep breaths, you're doing fine." She holds him there a little longer so he can better acclimate to the weight against his prosthetics. It aches worse than he could imagine on his right hip where it is the worst, where he lost nearly an entire leg. But his left leg hurts just as badly and it feels as if his knee is going to snap off from all the weight pulling it apart.

"With more practice your muscles will strengthen, and this will get easier each and every time," Mona tries to reassure him. "Your body needs time to adjust."

"Yeah, I know," he says behind clenched teeth. It confounds him how merely standing can take so much energy and effort but he has to remember that there is no way he could do this on his own without the prosthetics. He wants to lie back down so badly but he knows his physical trainer will probably make him walk back and forth between the bars until he no longer can. "Let's hurry and get on with it." The sooner he could finish and lay back in bed the better.

"Nope, you need to keep standing," she persists, keeping her hands grasped on his sides. "You can't rush through physical therapy, Lance. This takes patience as much as it does willpower. No matter how ambitious and eager you are to continue on to harder tasks, if your body is not ready for it you have to wait for it to catch up."

He lets out a half growl, half groan. "How do I tell my body to hurry the hell up?"

She laughs, patting him on the side. "You'd be surprised how quickly people can heal from force of will alone. I was told by your doctors that you healed phenomenally despite the severity of your injuries - you fought to live and I know you will fight just as hard to survive."

He looks up at her and his vision blurs. He only has one eye now and having half of his vision gone is a major adjustment in and of itself. It's strange to think how he took such a simple thing as his eyes for granted, and he only realizes it now that half of it is missing. Just like the rest of his body.

She calls him a fighter. Is he though? Did he actually fight to live or was it just the Reaper making sure he didn't die, at least not quite yet? He doesn't believe her words of encouragement because there is no way he was fighting to live when he was ready to give it all up for the sake of Pidge's safety. He was willing to give it all up to save everyone.

"I'm not so sure about that," he answers darkly. "I'm sure you've heard all about how I crashed."

Mona huffs. "There isn't much you can do to prevent a ship malfunction. These kinds of events are tragic and the best we can do is push through them, and be grateful we are at least still alive."

Lance is confused. He thought for sure everyone would be talking about how the Blue Paladin attempted suicide. There is no other reasonable explanation for what he did, so why is she so convinced it was a technical malfunction?

He decides to ignore it for now and concentrate on his physical training. "How much longer do I need to stand? How long have I  _ been _ standing?"

She lets out a hum and checks her watch. "Maybe two minutes? We're going to be practicing standing for a  _ while.  _ You don't expect an infant to run when they can barely crawl. We have to take this in small steps. Once you're a master at standing, I will make you a master at stepping. Once you are a master of stepping, I will make you a master at walking, and so on."

"Hooboy," he says with a huff. "And I thought Paladin training was hard."

After some time she allows him to sit and rest, but it is short-lived when she helps him stand again and lets him use the bar for support. They practice sitting and standing until he can do it on his own without her arms helping to pull him up. By the end of the exhausting day he's able to stand for a short time without holding on to anything. It feels like no progress and tons of progress at the same time.

His family visits him during dinner and he's happy to see everyone but also exhausted from all their questions. He is grateful that for whatever reason everyone seems to believe that the crash was due to a malfunction - he isn't certain he could handle all of his family pressing him about being suicidal when he can't explain to them the situation with the Reaper. He wishes desperately to have someone he can confide in without endangering their life. He doesn't dare talk to Shiro about it more for fear that the Reaper will take his life as well, since he wasn't supposed to live in the first place.

But then again, neither was Lance.

Twice now.

He doesn't know what to do and he is in so much pain. He still hasn't seen his face since waking up from the coma - he has no idea what he looks like now beneath the eyepatch. He wonders if there is anything he can even do to stop the Reaper. If sacrificing his life did nothing to tip the balance of the scales, what more can he do? Is he merely doomed to watch his friends die and live the rest of his life in this broken body?

He wants something to distract him but watching TV or reading a book is exhausting on his one eye and he can't fall asleep with his rampant thoughts. Ideally he would go for a nighttime stroll to help clear his mind but he can't walk. Time passes and as nurses come and check up on him he isn't certain how long he's laid there, mostly staring at the ceiling.

A knock sounds on his door and he believes it to be another nurse, but is pleasantly surprised to see that it is Pidge.

"Hey," she greets softly, closing the door behind her. She's holding a tupperware container in her hand and she stands nervously near the door still. "Mind if I join you?"

"Yeah - I mean, no - ugh. Yes you can join me, no I do not mind."

She lets out a soft laugh. "It's kind of a backwards question, isn't it?" She joins him at the foot of his bed, careful not to be anywhere near his prosthetics, and tucks her legs up beneath her. "I made peanut butter cookies and they're not the best, but I figured I could share some with you." She holds out the container to him and he slowly sits up from his reclined position and she carefully observes how his prosthetics take it from her and hold it. "How are your hands?"

"They're... I'm getting used to them... slowly." He tries to pry off the lid but it's hard to control his strength and the container flings off of the bed. Lance looks over the side and lets out a small sigh. "Oh cheese."

Pidge stares at the mess of cookies on the floor with wide eyes. "I don't know what I was expecting but it was not that." She gets up from the bed and picks them up, tossing the cookies that hit the floor. "A few of them stayed in the container so they're still good to eat. Sorry, I should have just opened it for you." She hands him the now lidless container with three surviving cookies and sits at the edge of the bed by his side.

"You want one?" he offers, holding the container slightly out to her.

She snorts. "I had roughly eight of them before coming here. I'm good. I'm more interested in your sensitivity receptors." She grabs hold of his right arm and starts fidgeting with parts, opening compartments he didn't know were there to expose the inner guts of his artificial limb.

"Woah, hey hey hey WHAT are you doing?!" He is surprised at how high his voice rises.

"What?" Pidge looks at him blankly. "I'm checking the settings on the hydraulics-"

"You don't just go opening up someone's BODY without any WARNING!" 

She blinks a few times, the realization dawning on her. "Oh... oh yeah. I can see how this would be disturbing now." She quickly closes all the hatches and lets go of his arm. "Quiznack, I am so sorry."

He takes a cookie and anxiously shoves it into his mouth, his words muffled. "It's okay." He finishes chewing and swallows, annoyed that even eating still feels off. "I know how excited you get over robotics."

She visibly blushes, even in the darkness of the room, and her lips form into an angry pout. "I-I don't see you as a robot though! I've always been fascinated with prosthetics, even when we first saw Shiro's-"

"Pidge. It's okay, I'm not judging you or anything. It was just really weird to have my arm like that when I'm... I'm still trying to get used to seeing them like this."

"Yeah..." she says softly, her gaze darting downwards. "I can only imagine how hard that must be." She is quiet for a moment as he continues eating a cookie but then her eyes light up with an idea. “Here,” she starts as she pulls her hair loose from its ponytail and adjusts her sitting position so her back faces him. “Braid my hair for me.”

“What?”

"It'll be good practice for getting accustomed to your new hand movements," she explains. "You know how to braid, right? I figured you do since you have two sisters."

"Yeah, I know how to braid… I grew up helping Rachel braid her hair."

He stares at her back for a moment, trying to process what she just asked of him. She's trying to help him adapt to his new fingers and somehow asking him to braid her hair feels like an intimate request. "Are you sure?" he asks dumbly as if she just asked him to kiss her or something.

"Of course, why would I offer it, goofball?" She turns her head over her shoulder to offer him an encouraging smile. The long honey tresses fall to her mid back - she has plenty of hair to braid, even for his clumsy hands. "Just, try not to accidentally yank my hair out, okay?" she says with a good-natured laugh.

He chuckles with her. "Certainly." As gently as he can muster, he separates her hair into three sections and slowly works on intertwining them. Though it takes a lot of concentration on his part, he finds it soothing - the proper distraction he yearned for earlier. The flesh of his two remaining fingers can feel the softness of her hair and it is both a comfort and a sobering realization. He won't ever be able to feel things in any of his other fingers ever again. All he has left are these two fingers to reach out and feel the things he loves.

"Pidge?" he asks softly as he gets close to finishing the braid. She turns her head slightly over her shoulder to look at him and show she's paying attention. She waits for him to take the deep breath he needs before he continues.

"Why do you have such faith in me?"

"...how do you mean..." she whispers back into the tense silence of the room.

"I would have given up on me a long time ago. Why do you stick by my side when all I am is a failure?"

She whips around, her braid slipping from his grasp. "Don't you ever call yourself that again."

"What would you call me instead?"

She's silent a moment, her eyes determined as they glint in the darkness. "I'm still trying to figure you out, Lance. You certainly don't seem like someone who would kill themselves, not when you care so deeply about your family. Not when I saw you  _ change, _ you were  _ happy,  _ you were  _ better.  _ And I know you would never intentionally inflict the pain of losing a teammate on all of us again, since you know that pain more intimately than any of us can ever understand."

Those words strike deep into his heart and it must show because Pidge’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That was uncalled for.”

“No it was perfectly called for,” he argues. “I-I know I-” He stops and doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t think this far ahead with all that has been on his mind adjusting to the new prosthetics and enduring physical training. This was the moment where he either told Pidge about the Reaper or he played along with the story of being suicidal. But she was right, he was doing phenomenally better - he was actually happy despite the occasional horrific nightmare or disturbing hallucination brought about by the Reaper. He could  _ live _ with that so long as he had his family and Pidge by his side.

But then Death threatened to take her away from him. 

She watches him patiently, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know… can… can we talk about this another time?” he asks innocently, the discomfort showing on his face. He knows he needs to tell her about the Reaper but he can’t… not now.

Pidge seems to be mulling it over, her expression concerned. “Okay…” she says softly. “But we  _ have  _ to talk about it. As soon as you’re ready.” Her gaze holds him to that promise. 

"Okay." He reaches his right hand out to her, the hand that can still feel, the hand that has two fingers and part of his palm remaining. He instinctively reaches for her hand but changes his mind, lifting it towards her face to gently brush her bangs aside instead. He loses what he was going to say as he feels the contact of her temple against the side of his hand, releasing a soft gasp at the sense of physical touch. 

She seems to realize how much it impacts him as she lifts her left hand to softly wrap her fingers around the flesh of his wrist, holding him there. "Please don't cry," she begins to say as tears line her eyes as well.

He doesn't even realize the wetness on his cheek until she points it out. "But you're crying." 

"I'm crying because you were crying first, you dork!"

She moves her hand to hold his, squeezing the good side of his hand where he can feel her touch. He lets out a soft sigh, never wanting to let her go… wishing this moment could last forever.

Wishing he could just tell her.

Instead he tries to convey his feelings through physical contact, something he took for granted until it was violently torn from him. He leans forward and wraps his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder. She returns the embrace, her arms clutching tightly around his shoulder blades. He cries hard enough that he can feel the tears spilling from beneath his eyepatch, the sensation of liquid filling the cavity where his eye once was a hollow realization of its absence. After so many days of feeling numb he finally experiences the raw terror of what has happened to him. His shoulders start to shake but Pidge only holds him tighter, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

He has no words. There are plenty of things he wants to scream but all he can do is fall apart within Pidge’s arms as his new reality sinks in, his cries wracking what’s left of his body. At the same time he realizes the miracle that he’s  _ alive -  _ it could be  _ so much worse, _ he’s not in a vegetative state - and Pidge and so many others have worked tirelessly to give him the rest of his body back so he can live as normally as he can. Pidge is  _ here, _ alive in his arms. 

He doesn’t want to ever let her go.

After a few minutes of holding each other, their tears begin to abate. Pidge pulls back but stays close, holding his shoulders. 

“I’m s-sorry,” he sniffles, unable to meet her gaze. “I’m such a wreck.” 

“It’s fine… I’m just glad you’re finally showing emotion,” she admits, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. 

“Really," he says dubiously.

“Yeah… your lack of reaction when you first woke up kind of scared me. The Lance I know would cry with all that has happened to him. So… it’s good to have you back.” She gives him a soft smile, her eyes still watery. 

He wants to respond “ _ it’s good to be back” _ but it feels like a lie sitting heavily in his chest. He looks into her eyes with a pained tenderness. "I'm glad you're here. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Have faulty finger movements, probably," she teases, but quickly sobers as she reaches for his good hand, hooking her pinkie with his. She sits there quietly for a moment, admiring the lifeline of their joined hands. "You're going to be okay, Lance. I'm going to make certain of it. And not just your body, but… all of you." Her voice cracks as the tears threaten to spill once more. "But you have to promise me you will tell me  _ everything.  _ When… when you're ready, at least."

He swallows heavily. He knows he has to tell her about the Reaper but it seems all the more daunting now that she holds him to such a promise. It's so strange to him that hand holding will never be the same, that linking pinkies is the best they can do, but he's grateful for her brilliant mind coming up with the most intimate form of contact his broken body can afford. It fills him with a warmth that causes him to smile.

"Does this make it a pinkie promise?" he asks.

"Yes," she says decidedly with a smile. "Which means it is of the utmost importance."

“Naturally,” he agrees. Though little does she know that anything regarding her is of the utmost importance to him. 

He can’t describe the warmth in his chest as anything but love. 

* * *

The former Paladins all pay Lance a visit and though he appreciates seeing them all, he still feels a heavy guilt at the fact he can’t tell any of them the truth. A weight pulls him down, anxiety convincing him that they will all fall prey to the Reaper because of him. There is one visit that doesn’t cause him such grief, however.

Shiro.

In the year that he was comatose, apparently Shiro took over as Admiral of the Garrison. Lance always looked up to Shiro as his hero and role model, but it is a whole new slap to the face to see the former Black Paladin wearing four gold stripes on his shoulders.

“What did it tell you?”

_ Quiznack, he cuts right to the chase. _

Lance knows he can’t play dumb. Shiro is too smart and even then he’s the only one who knows about Death. He looks away, his mechanical fingers curling into fists around the edge of his sheets.

“Pidge was supposed to die.” He is surprised to hear his voice crack. It feels foreign saying the secret between him and the Reaper outloud. He almost expects something to happen because of it, but the room is met with silence until Shiro speaks.

“So you offered yourself instead,” he concludes solemnly. 

Lance doesn’t answer and there’s a pause of tense silence before Shiro continues.

“And doing the same for Allura wasn’t an option.”

“No,” he says bitterly. “Not even the Lions fought to save her.” 

Shiro seems perturbed by this, his brows lowering. “How do you mean?”

He’s said too much. Lance sighs, knowing he can’t keep everything from Shiro. He’s only worried that he will try to do something about the whole situation with the Reaper when he obtains more knowledge of it, but Lance knows that trying to do anything is futile. “Red helped me save Pidge once. The Lions are capable of seeing the future, at least bits of it. They knew Allura was going to die and they did nothing to prevent it.”

Lance can feel his eye begin to water but he tries to keep his emotions in check by grasping the sheets tighter but he can't feel his hands like he used to so he opts for biting his lower lip instead. Shiro mulls over this information for a moment before speaking.

“Maybe there was nothing they could have done…”

“I doubt that,” he growls. “They knew more than they let any of us know. The Lions are  _ the same creature as the Reaper _ . If Honerva had to use the dark entity to destroy realities and Allura had to do the same to bring them back, doesn’t it make sense that the Lions could have stepped in if they are of the same origin as the Reaper? Couldn't they have done  _ something?" _

Shiro is speechless and normally Lance would consider that quite the accomplishment but not here, not in these circumstances. 

“Sometimes I wonder if what we did was right," Lance mulls. "If the Lions were truly… you know…  _ good." _

"They have to be," Shiro practically pleads with him. "I nearly spent a year in the shared astral plane with Black. There's… a lot I learned during my time there. Things I can’t even figure out how to describe to you."

"But Black never told you it is the same creature as the Reaper or the dark entities."

"No… those are the same creatures that destroyed Diabazaal. The ones that caused Zarkon and Honerva to turn against Voltron."

"And the same creatures that nearly destroyed all realities."

They reach silence again, the heavy knowledge weighing down upon both of their shoulders as they mull over the situation. Lance never wanted to bring any of this to the attention of his teammates - he fears the Reaper will harm anyone who knows too much. He didn’t even discuss it with Allura until it was too late…

_ Perhaps they need to know. _

_ Not knowing is no guarantee of safety. _

“You should really tell Pidge,” Shiro says softly as if he read his thoughts. “If anyone deserves to know the ugly truth it is her.”

“I know…  _ I know,” _ he strains, his emotion making it hard to talk. He slowly unclenches his hands and stares at the mesh of flesh and metal. “I can’t let her get hurt because of me.”

Shiro pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t believe there is anything you  _ can _ do to protect anyone… at least not with this. Pidge will want to know so she can be prepared… for whatever comes. She might even be able to come up with something but she can’t solve a problem you never provide to her.”

_ Could _ Pidge figure something out? Though now that Lance really ponders it, if anyone could come up with a plan to destroy a cosmic reaper it would be her… possibly even Slav. But he didn’t trust Slav’s strange calculations to account for anything above the bare minimum of remaining alive afterward. 

“She was constantly at your bedside," Shiro says with pained eyes, though his smile is bittersweet. "She liked to take her lunch break in here with you. Evidence shows that talking to comatose patients is good for them… she wanted to help you heal in whatever way she could."

"Yeah… I remember a lot of her voice as I drifted partially into consciousness."  _ I also remember her confession…  _ He swallows heavily. "She was here just as much as my family." He can't pinpoint why but the comparison to his family suddenly makes him feel guilty. He wants to talk to her about her confession but it feels weird to bring up the fact he could hear her but couldn't respond. It feels equally weird to never bring it up either. But he knows they need to address it at some point… he only wishes that it can come about naturally and when the time is right. 

For now he is pressed to initiate a far more intimidating conversation with Pidge.

Shiro stays a little longer, his tense and serious demeanor fading as he chats with Lance about adjusting to phantom limb sensations and new prosthetics. Though Shiro is tough he has no understanding of how to adapt to a leg prosthetic. His comforting words and hopeful outlook does little to ease his worries but he smiles and thanks him for the visit when he departs. His physical trainer said that tomorrow would be the day they attempt walking and he has a hard time falling asleep with that dread eating at his mind.

The fact that he hasn’t seen Death since waking up worries him.  _ Could it be focusing on Pidge instead? _ As strange as it is to expect an omnipresent being to pay him a visit to deliver terrifying threats, this is routine for Lance. To not see the obsidian creature with glowing hollow eyes in his nightmares or even in the shadows as he is awake feels oddly unsettling. He recalls the conversation he had with Death while Pidge was present to hear him speak to no one, before the crash. 

He needs to tell Pidge about the Reaper. 

Not only because of the looming threat but because she deserves to know he isn’t suicidal. 

She loves him.

She deserves to know that he wants to keep living… 

And that he wants to keep living by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a long time coming! It's hard to write such heavy angst and the next chapter will have just as much. Comments are always appreciated! Let me know what you think!


End file.
